ALBATROSS 
NOVELS  * 


LOVE 
AT  SEVENTY 


ALBERT  ROSS 


j 


Mrs.  Mildred  E.Younrjman, 

Kingston, 
Massachusetts. 


H    .1 

BESS  LIBRARY 


THE 

ALBATROSS  NOVELS 

By  ALBERT  ROSS 
23  Volumes 

May  be  had  wherever  book*  are  sold  at  the  price  you 
paid  for  thi«  volume 

Black  Adonis,  A 
Garston  Bigamy,  The 
Her  Husband's  Friend 
His  Foster  Sister 
His  Private  Character 
la  Stella's  Shadow 
Love  at  Seventy 
Love  Gone  Astray 
Moulding  a  Maiden 
Naked  Truth,  The 
New  Sensation*  A 
Original  Sinner,  An 
Out  of  Wedlock 
Speaking  of  Ellen 
Stranger  Than  Fiction 
Sugar  Princess,  A 
That  Gay  Deceiver 
Their  Marriage  Bond 
Thou  Shalt  Not 
Thy  Neighbor's  Wife 
Why  I'm  Single 
Young  Fawcett's  Mabel 
Young  Miss  Giddy 

a  W.  DILLINGHAM  CO. 

Publishers  ::  ::  New  York 


LOVE  AT  SEVENTY, 


BY  ALBERT  Ross. 

AUTHOR   OF 

44  YOUNG   Miss   GIDDY,"    "  IN    STELLA'S   SHADOW," 

"Tnou   SHALT    NOT,"    "  WHY    I'M   SINGLE," 

"AN  ORIGINAL  SINNER,"  ETC. 


,  Tom  r  he  cried,  "  the  coming  on 
of  years  does  not  deaden  the  heart  in  a 
healthy  man,  nor  does  the  springing  up 
of  love  in  his  bosom  indicate  decay  of 
the  mental  faculties."  —  Page  286. 


NEW   YORK: 

COPYRIGHT,  1M«,  BY  G.  W.  DflUMANAM. 

G.    W.    Dillingham     Co.,    Publishers. 
\Allrights  reserved.} 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  Plage 

I.  Picturesque  and  Poor 9 

II.  A  Bit  of  History 21 

III.  "  You  do  not  know  Julie." 31 

IV.  The  Housekeeper's  Daughter 42 

V.  Miss  Giddings  is  Shocked 49 

VI.  "  I'm  sure  I  can  trust  you." 58 

VII.  Old  Man   Hobbs 70 

VIII.  "You  mean  the  young  lady." 81 

IX.  Around  the  Post-office  Fire gi 

X.  "  I'm   Roland,"  said  he 99 

XI.  A  Paragon  of   Innocence 108 

XII.  Playing  a  Game  of  Chess 118 

XIII.  "This  one  I  met  in   Trieste." 127 

XIV.  Caught  in  the  Act 135 

XV.  "  Now,  don't  say  you're  sorry  !"....  142 

XVI.  Uncle  and  Nephew 153 

XVII.  "Oh!  I  know  some  things." 167 

XVIII.  Beginning  all  Over 176 

XIX.  In  Eva's  Chamber 183 

XX.  "Confound  his  Money!" 193 

XXI.  Guy  Takes  a  Journey 203 

XXII.  One  Kiss  too  Many 215 

w 


OONTBJffTB. 

Chapter  Page 

XXIII.  "  He  will  do  it  for  me." 225 

XXIV.  "  Poverty  is  a  weary  thing  !" 236 

XXV.  A  Benignant  Old   Gentleman 245 

XXVI.  Mr.  Linnette's  Strange  Story 252 

XXVII.  "  You  are  a  cool  one." 261 

XXVIII.  Roland  and  Maud 271 

XXIX.  Off  to  Gretna  Green 280 

XXX.  "  You  have  married  her  !" 289 

XXXI.  Everything  explained 297 

XXXII.  A  Peep  at  the  Stars 306 


TO  MY  READERS. 


After  giving  you  stories  in  which  the  scenes  are 
located  largely  in  Germany,  France,  Italy,  Spain  and 
Mexico,  it  seems  only  right  to  return  to  the  United 
States  and  write  one  in  which  nearly  every  incident 
takes  place  on  American  soil.  It  is  true  that  Roland 
Linnette  tells  of  some  of  his  experiences  abroad,  in 
one  or  two  chapters  ;  but  both  he,  and  his  dear  old 
uncle,  who  furnishes  my  title,  his  friend  Dalton,  Eva 
Warren,  Maud  Arlineand  Tom  Hobbs  are  essentially 
home  products. 

It  is  sometimes  gravely  disputed  that  my  charac- 
ters are  "  types."  Sometimes,  I  must  explain,  they 
are  not  intended  to  be.  Willard  Linnette  is  a  type, 
Eva  Warren  is  not  ;  that  is  to  say,  Eva's  character 
is  too  peculiar  to  find  many  duplicates  in  real  life. 
In  the  same  way,  going  back  to  "  Young  Misa 
Giddy,"  Senator  Scarlett  is  as  true  a  type  as  can 
be  found — in  some  respects  almost  a  copy — while 
Flora  may  well  be  called  an  exception  to  most  rules. 
In  "  Thou  Shalt  not,"  Greyburn,  Walter  Campbell, 
Jacob  Mendall,  Gabrielle — I  think  every  character 
of  importance — is  a  type.  The  type  of  Madame 

fvii] 


Vlll  TO  MY    READERS. 

O  H 

Biron  in  "  Why  I'm  Single"  has  been  used  by  Ibsen 
in  his  play  of  "  Ghosts  "  so  closely  as  to  suggest 
plagiarism. 

After  much  criticism  on  moral  grounds,  in  past 
days,  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  feel  that  this  story  can- 
not injure  the  fabric  of  the  most  delicate  mind.  It 
can  safely  be  left  in  unlocked  rooms  where  elderly 
maiden  ladies  are  accustomed  to  prowl.  I  hope  you 
will  find  it  interesting,  for  it  cost  me  some  months 
of  labor  and  the  valued  services  of  a  typewriter, 
though  it  is  written  in  a  minor  key  that  will  not 
disturb  the  sleepers  in  the  rear  pews. 

Unless  all  signs  fail  there  will  be  a  round  million 
of  novels  credited  to  my  account,  before  I  make  my 
bow  to  you  again  in  January.  That  means  at  least 
five  million  readers.  It  should  certainly  inspire  an 
author  to  do  his  best  when  he  has  to  reckon  with 
such  a  magnificent  constituency. 

ALBERT  Ross. 

Cambridge,  Mass. 
May,  1894. 


LOVE  AT  SEVENTY. 


CHAPTER   I. 

PICTURESQUE    AND    POOR. 

In  the  little  room  known  to  the  employes  of  the 
Montvale  Optical  Company  as  "the  counting  room," 
two  persons  were  sitting  one  cold  March  morning. 
One  of  them  was  Rufus  Hobbs,  the  book-keeper, 
who  was  engaged  in  an  apparently  interminable 
effort  to  add  some  columns  of  figures.  The  other 
was  Mr.  (nobody  would  have  thought  of  calling 
Rufus  "Mister")  Roland  Linnette,  nephew  and  pre- 
sumptive heir  of  Willard  Linnette,  owner  not  only 
of  the  Optical  Works,  but  of  about  everything  else 
in  Montvale. 

Mr.  Roland  was  not  engaged  in  adding  figures. 
Indeed,  he  had  spent  much  more  of  his  life  in  study- 
ing the  science  of  subtraction  than  that  of  addition. 
He  was  a  confirmed  idler  and  a  very  comfortable 
sort  of  fellow.  At  the  moment  when  he  is  intro- 
duced to  the  reader,  he  was  gazing  aimlessly  into  a 

[91 


10  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

heap  of  coals  which  burned  brightly  in  the  grate 
before  him. 

Both  the  book-keeper  and  his  companion  suddenly 
became  aware  that  there  was  a  knock  at  the  outer 
door  of  the  counting  room.  At  least,  they  knew 
that  either  this  had  happened,  or  that  the  wind, 
which  was  very  boisterous,  had  blown  so  severely 
against  the  building  as  to  convey  the  impression 
that  some  one  wished  to  enter.  The  book-keeper 
looked  inquiringly  at  Mr.  Roland,  who  in  return 
looked  inquiringly  at  the  book-keeper.  And  the 
upshot  was  that  Rufus  called  "  Come  in  !"  in  an  ele- 
vated tone  of  voice. 

The  door  opened  slowly  and  closed  behind  a  young 
man,  or  it  might  be  more  correct  to  say,  lad,  for  he 
did  not  look  more  than  seventeen  or  eighteen  years 
of  age.  He  was  thinly  dressed,  notwithstanding  the 
extreme  coldness  of  the  day,  and  his  features  wore  a 
pinched  look,  such  as  is  usually  taken  for  a  sign  of 
physical  suffering. 

"  Have  you  any  work  that  I  could  do,  sir  ?"  inquired 
the  newcomer,  directing  his  question  to  the  book- 
keeper, as  Mr.  Roland  was  partly  concealed  from 
view  by  one  of  the  large  chairs  in  the  room. 

The  book-keeper  was  plainly  annoyed.  He  had 
been  interrupted  at  the  very  worst  time.  Before  he 
could  find  words,  the  intruder  knew  by  the  unpleas- 
ant expression  of  his  face  what  to  expect. 

"  No,  no  !"  replied  Rufus,  gruffly.  "  We've  got 
nothing  for  you.  Come,  be  off  !" 

The  last  exclamation  was  caused  by  the  hesitation 
of  the  inquirer  and  his  evident  desire  to  prolong  the 


PICTURESQUE    AND    POOR.  11 

conversation.  Mr.  Roland,  glancing  obliquely  from 
his  seat  by  the  fire,  saw  the  disappointed  expression 
— one  that  was  not  far  from  indicating  genuine  pain. 
He  moved  his  chair  slightly  and  surveyed  the  new- 
comer with  interest. 

"  Well,  are  you  going  ?"  repeated  Rufus,  seeing 
that  the  applicant  still  remained.  "We  have  noth- 
ing for  you  in  any  shape.  The  works  are  all  full 
and  there  is  no  prospect  of  a  vacancy.  Be  sure  and 
shut  the  door,  as  you  have  already  let  in  a  good 
deal  of  cold." 

The  attitude  of  the  young  fellow  changed  with 
marvellous  rapidity  under  the  words  and  manner 
with  which  he  had  been  received.  He  raised  his 
head  and  threw  at  the  book-keeper  a  glance  of 
defiance. 

"  I  am  poor,  and  I  am  cold,  and  I  am  hungry,"  he 
said,  in  a  firm  voice, "  but  that  is  no  reason  why  you 
should  speak  to  me  like  a  dog.  I  asked  you  for 
work,  not  for  charity,  and  you  might  have  replied  in 
decent  language." 

This  conversation  occupied  but  a  few  seconds,  but 
it  gave  Mr.  Roland  time  to  take  a  minute  survey  of 
the  boy.  He  saw  at  once  that  he  had  a  fine  face, 
most  intelligent  eyes,  and  an  air  that  does  not  usu- 
ally accompany  such  poor  garments  as  he  wore. 
He  noticed  also  that  the  lad's  hands,  which  were 
entirely  bare,  were  well  shaped  and  very  delicate. 
Although  the  thermometer  outside  the  window 
registered  far  below  the  freezing  point,  he  had  no 
overcoat. 

The  extreme  paleness  of  his  countenance  was  like 


12  LOVB  AT  SETBfTT. 

that  of  one  recently  recovered  from  a  severe  illness, 
and  this  environment  gave  his  eyes  an  unusually 
large  appearance.  The  angry  look  which  flashed 
into  them  when  he  replied  to  the  book-keeper's 
brusque  words  caused  them  to  light  up  in  a  way  quite 
attractive  to  any  one  but  the  object  of  their  wrath. 

"  He  is  very  picturesque  !"  muttered  Mr.  Roland, 
beneath  his  breath. 

Feeling  the  necessity  of  doing  something  to  pre- 
serve his  dignity  from  the  onslaught  of  the  youth, 
Ruf  us  Hobbs  left  his  stool  and  figures  and  approached 
him  threateningly. 

"  Get  out  of  here,"  he  said,  sharply,  "  or  I'll  put 
you  out !  I'll  tcn^h  you  manners,  beggar  !" 

For  answer  the  young  fellow,  who  was  much 
slenderer  and  shorter  than  his  prospective  assailant, 
clenched  his  thin  hands,  but  did  not  move  an  inch. 
He  evidently  had  no  intention  of  being  bullied 
without  a  protest.  His  eyes,  which  had  been  dark 
before,  seemed  to  flash  fire  from  out  their  depths. 
His  teeth,  marvellously  white  and  even,  showed  set 
and  determined  beneath  the  pale  lips.  There  could 
be  but  one  issue  to  a  contest  so  unequal,  but  if  Hobbs 
imagined  that  he  was  to  have  his  own  way  in  the 
scrimmage  he  had  evidently  made  a  miscalculation. 

"  How  very  picturesque  he  is  !"  murmured  the 
young  gentleman  by  the  fire  again.  Then,  in  a 
louder  voice,  he  addressed  himself  to  the  book- 
keeper :  "  Let  him  alone,  Rufus.  I  want  to  talk 
to  him." 

The  tone  in  which  this  was  said  was  the  most 
ordinary  one  in  the  world,  but  there  are  two  classes 


PIOTUBESQUE   JLJfD  POOB.  13 

of  beings  who  know  and  obey  their  masters  without 
hesitation.  Rufus  Hobbs  was  a  member  of  one  of 
these  classes  ;  and  though  Mr.  Roland  was  in  one 
sense  no  master  of  his,  he  knew  that  the  time  might 
come  when  he  would  be,  and  had  a  due  regard  for 
the  bread  and  butter  question  on  that  future  day. 

At  this  moment  the  piercing  whistle  of  the  works 
blew,  indicating  the  hour  of  noon.  The  book-keeper 
recognized  the  welcome  sound,  and  a  sense  of 
pleasure  at  his  approaching  dinner  overpowered  every 
other  feeling.  He  took  down  a  heavy  overcoat  from 
an  adjacent  closet,  turning  up  the  ample  collar 
above  his  neck  ;  put  on  his  fur  gloves  and  hat,  eye- 
ing the  scantily  clad  visitor  with  that  contempt 
which  well-dressed  people  very  properly  have  for 
their  inferiors  in  this  regard  ;  and  finally,  stalking 
by  him  as  if  he  were  some  specimen  of  reptile,  made 
his  exit  from  the  building. 

Not  until  the  door  had  closed  behind  the  form  of 
Rufus  Hobbs  did  any  change  whatever  come  into 
the  pale  face  of  the  young  fellow.  But  the  next 
moment  he  turned  with  quite  a  different  expression 
to  Mr.  Roland. 

"  Did  I  understand  that  you  wished  to  see  me  ?" 
he  asked. 

"  Y-e-s,"  replied  the  other,  slowly. 

That  was  exactly  what  the  young  gentleman 
wished  to  do  with  the  boy — to  see  him.  He  pleased 
intensely  his  sense  of  sight.  He  would  have  enjoyed 
nothing  better  than  merely  to  look  at  him  for  the 
rest  of  the  afternoon.  Having  taken  a  very  late 


14r  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

breakfast  he  was  not  troubled  by  those  thrills  which 
made  Rufus  glad  to  hear  the  noon  signal. 

"Sit  down,"  he  added,  presently.  "It  is  surely 
more  comfortable  here  than  out  of  doors." 

As  the  lad  feebly  took  a  chair  Roland  whispered 
to  himself  for  the  third  time,  "  I  think  he  is  the  most 
picturesque  boy  I  ever  saw  !" 

The  air  of  the  counting  room  was  undoubtedly 
preferable  to  that  of  the  street,  but  the  youth  had 
something  to  think  of  beside  his  temporary  comfort. 

"You  are  very  kind,"  said  he,  "  but  I  cannot 
remain  long.  I  must  find  work  to-day  somewhere." 

Roland  looked  at  the  slight  figure.  There  was 
much  determination  in  its  bearing,  an  appearance 
entirely  at  variance  with  its  slight  bulk.  He  had 
found  Montvale  very  dull  for  the  past  month,  and 
this  was  the  first  thing  that  had  in  the  least  enter- 
tained him.  He  wanted  to  retain  the  pleasurable 
sensation.  What  a  godsend  a  creature  like  this 
would  be  in  that  desolate  region  ! 

"  Let  me  make  a  suggestion,"  he  said,  after  a 
slight  pause.  "I  am  obliged  to  stay  in  this  village, 
and  I  am  simply  dying  of  ennui.  In  saying  this  I 
am  making  a  confession  to  you  with  which  I  would 
not  honor  anyone  else  for  the  world.  You  might 
suppose,  to  look  at  me,  that  I  was  the  most  con- 
tented chap  on  earth,  but  the  fact  is  I  am  just  the 
opposite.  Now,  I  live  at  the  hotel  and  have  no  one 
to  talk  to  in  the  whole  place,  unless  it  be  some 
idiot  like  Hobbs,  the  book-keeper,  with  whom  you 
have  just  had  a  bit  of  experience.  I  want  you  to 
come  up  to  the  house  with  me,  and  remain  there 


PICTURESQUE   AND   POOB.  15 

awhile  as  my  guest.  I  will  not  insult  you  by  offer- 
ing a  salary,  for  I  want  to  treat  you  as  one  gentle- 
man treats  another.  What  do  you  say  ?" 

A  notion  that  this  well-dressed  man  was  making 
fun  of  him  came  into  the  lad's  head,  but  he  could 
see  nothing  to  endorse  the  idea  in  the  straightfor- 
ward glance  that  met  his  inquiring  gaze. 

"  I  cannot  accept  your  offer,"  said  he,  "  though  I 
thank  you  for  it.  It  is  absolutely  necessary  that  I 
lose  no  time  in  getting  employment." 

Roland  was  evidently  disappointed. 

"  And  so  you  prefer  work  to  taking  your  ease  ! 
Excuse  me  for  saying  that  such  a  choice  is  quite 
incomprehensible.  I  cannot  see  why  anybody  should 
want  to  work.  I  have  always  thought  it  one  of  the 
dullest  ways  of  passing  one's  time — duller  even  than 
sitting  by  this  beastly  grate  and  watching  the  gases 
release  themselves  from  that  anthracite." 

The  lad  stared  at  the  speaker  in  great  astonish- 
ment. 

"  I  have  no  friends,  no  home,  no  money,"  he 
replied,  and  his  voice  faltered.  "  What  can  I  do  but 
work  ?" 

The  young  gentleman  could  not  take  his  eyes 
from  the  handsome  fellow.  It  was  an  outrage  that 
such  a  picturesque  specimen  should  be  condemned 
to  a  life  of  drudgery. 

"  What  can  you  do  ?"  he  echoed.  "Why,  I  have 
just  told  you.  Have  you  never  read  that  brilliant 
saying  of  Theophile  Gautier's  ?  He  says  '  The  only 
fitting  occupation  for  a  civilized  man  is  to  do 
nothing.' " 


It  LOVK   AT  BJEVMTt. 

The  lad  shook  his  head  in  wonder.  He  heard,  but 
he  did  not  understand.  The  idea  that  a  person  with 
empty  pockets  could  live  without  labor  was  a  new 
one  to  him. 

"If  you  really  insist  on  working,  do  not  let  me 
detain  you,"  added  Roland,  as  his  companion  gave 
no  sign  of  intending  to  reply.  "  It  is  easy  to  see, 
though,  that  you  were  never  intended  for  a  drudge. 
You  are  not  built  with  a  great,  rough  frame,  splay 
feet  and  broad  hands.  You  are  handsome — excuse 
me — and  you  have  intelligence  in  your  eyes.  It  is 
ridiculous  to  think  of  you  shovelling  coal  or  pud- 
dling iron,  or  even  grinding  lenses.  And  yet  that  is 
what  the  foreman  of  these  works  would  probably 
have  set  you  to  do  if  there  had  been  any  place  to 
offer  you." 

Instead  of  replying  in  words,  the  scantily  clad 
figure  rose,  as  if  to  take  its  leave. 

"  You  haven't  told  me  your  name,"  said  Roland, 
cudgelling  his  brain  to  invent  some  means  of  keep- 
ing his  new  companion  a  little  longer. 

"  Guy  Dalton,"  was  the  hesitating  answer. 

"You  look  as  if  you  had  been  ill,"  remarked 
Roland,  kindly. 

"  I  have." 

"  Then  that  is  another  reason  why  you  should  not 
think  of  doing  anything  like  manual  labor  for  the 
present.  Don't  be  foolish.  Come  up  to  the  hotel 
and  dine  with  me.  After  dinner  we  can  talk  it  over." 

This  offer  was  declined  with  a  motion  of  the  head, 
and  another  step  was  taken  toward  the  doorway. 

"  You    are    the    strangest    mortal    I   ever    met," 


PICTURESQUE   AND   POOK.  17 

smiled  Roland,  advancing  and  placing  one  of  his 
hands  on  the  other's  shoulder.  "  I  will  not  oppose 
you  any  longer,  as  it  is  evidently  useless.  Sit  down 
again  and  wait  until  one  o'clock.  I  will  say  the 
right  word  to  the  superintendent  and  he  will  employ 
you  here." 

There  was  a  moment  of  hesitation,  and  then  the 
lad  responded  that  he  would  rather  go  elsewhere. 

"  There  is  no  place  here — that  book-keeper  told 
me  so,"  he  said.  "  I  could  not  take  a  place  from 
which  some  one  had  to  be  discharged  to  make  room 
for  me." 

Roland  looked  much  annoyed. 

"  I  say,  Master  Guy,  you  won't  be  able  to  keep 
that  pace  up,"  he  expostulated.  "  Folks  who  persist 
in  working  for  their  living  cannot  be  so  par- 
ticular. That  is  one  of  the  disagreeable  things 
about  the  business.  You  had  better  take  this  situa- 
tion, or  a  lunch — or  some  money — or  something. 
It  is  very  cold  weather,  as  you  may  have  noticed. 
The  next  place  you  apply  to  will  not  be  any  more 
likely  to  have  a  vacancy  than  this  one.  Before  you 
came  this  morning  there  were  half-a-dozen  in  here 
asking  the  same  question." 

"  I  can  try,"  was  the  courageous  answer.  "  Good- 
by,  sir." 

The  young  gentleman  could  not  think  of  anything 
more  to  say. 

"Good-by,  then  ;  or  rather  au  revoir,  f or  I  am  sure 
it  will  not  be  for  long.  Take  this  card  with  my 
address.  When  you  are  tired  of  walking  about  the 


18  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

country  and  wish  to  do  a  real  kindness,  you  will 
find  my  offer  still  open." 

At  this  they  parted,  one  to  tramp  through  the 
snowy  roads  to  the  next  village,  three  miles  away, 
and  the  other  to  seek  his  cosy  rooms  at  the  Montvale 
House. 

"  I  suppose  I  am  going  to  pity  that  young  gander," 
mused  Roland,  as  he  plodded  along  his  brief  road, 
"and  half  spoil  my  dinner.  "Pity  him  !"  he  contin- 
ued, pausing  at  the  thought  which  crossed  his  mind. 
"  Pity  him !  Why,  I  would  exchange  positions 
gladly  at  this  moment — yes,  taking  his  poverty, 
hunger  and  all.  For  has  he  not  his  youth — his 
golden,  glorious  youth  still  to  spend — that  possession 
worth  more  than  all  the  rest  of  earth,  and  which 
can  never  again  be  mine  !  He  has  beauty  ;  more 
than  that,  he  has  picturesqueness ;  even  in  his 
shabby  clothes  he  looks  fit  to  rule  a  dukedom.  He 
has  courage,  stoutness  of  heart,  which  I  never  had 
and  never  shall  have  in  like  degree.  Pity  him!" 

Looking  up  the  speaker  saw  coming  toward  him 
a  young  girl,  pretty  enough  to  have  fixed  his  atten- 
tion at  any  time,  but  doubly  attractive  in  his  present 
state  of  mind.  With  the  instinct  of  his  training  he 
lifted  his  hat  and  stepped  aside  to  allow  her  the 
fullest  room  to  pass.  But  when  directly  in  front  of 
him  she  stopped. 

"  Is  not  this  Mr.  Linnette  ?" 

"Yes,"  he  responded,  wonderingly 

"Your  uncle  is  at  the  hotel  and  wishes  to  speak 
with  you." 

Roland  stared  at  the  pretty  face  in  great  surprisd 


PICTURESQUE    AND   POOR.  19 

"  But  why  did  he  ask  you  to  do  such  an  errand  ?" 
he  asked,  almost  indignantly.  "  Are  there  no  servants 
at  the  house?" 

The  girl  blushed  violently. 

"  I  suppose  they  call  me  one  of  the  servants,"  she 
replied,  casting  down  her  eyes. 

One  of  the  servants  !  Was  it  possible  !  And  he 
had  never  seen  her  during  the  four  weeks  he  had 
lived  at  the  hotel.  He  took  a  critical,  though  hasty 
survey  of  her  dress,  and  noticed  for  the  first  time 
that  it  agreed  with  her  description  of  her  position. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  preparing  to  accom- 
pany her.  "I  thought  I  had  seen  all  of  Mr.  Han- 
son's people,  and  you  gave  me  a  complete  surprise. 
May  I  inquire  in  what  capacity  you  are  engaged  ?" 

The  girl  had  heard  considerable  about  the  nephew 
of  Willard  Linnette,  but  his  voice  and  manner  were 
very  different  from  what  she  had  supposed.  When 
called  to  do  this  errand  she  had  expected  to  meet  an 
ogre. 

"  I  am  assistant  waitress  and  chambermaid,"  she 
said,  following  him  at  what  she  meant  to  be  a 
respectful  distance,  instead  of  walking  by  his  side, 
as  he  seemed  to  wish  her  to  do.  "  I  think  your 
uncle  is  in  haste,  sir.  I  believe  he  has  received  a 
message  to  leave  on  the  next  train." 

Roland  was  so  wrapped  up  in  his  reflections  that 
he  totally  ignored  her  last  statement. 

"You  surely  have  not  been  long  at  the  hotel  ?"  he 
said,  interrogatively. 

"  About  two  months." 


JO  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

He  stopped  short  in  the  snow,  in  a  miniature 
rage. 

"  Where  have  they  kept  you  ?"  he  cried,  impetu- 
ously. 

A  turn  in  the  road  hid  them  from  sight.  Forget- 
ing  everything,  Roland  caught  both  the  hands  of  the 
girl  in  his  own. 

"It  is  a  shame  !"  he  said,  speaking  rapidly.  "  It 
is  an  outrage,  when  they  compel  me  to  spend  week 
after  week  in  this  dull  town,  to  keep  from  my  sight 
the  only  interesting  thing  the  village  can  boast.  I 
shall  speak  to  Hanson — I  shall  tell  him  my  opinion 
of  his  conduct — I  shall — " 

She  struggled  gently  to  free  her  hands,  and  her 
breath  came  rapidly. 

"  Your  uncle,  sir  !  You  forget.  He  will  think  it 
my  fault.  You  have  no  time  !" 

He  looked  into  the  eyes  which  she  raised  to  his, 
and  his  pulses  were  on  fire. 

"Time  !"  he  cried.  "  What  is  time,  or  eternity,  to 
me  ?  I  shall  leave  you,  but  remember,  this  is  not 
the  last  time  we  shall  see  each  other.  Tell  me  one 
thing  only — your  name." 

"Maud  Arline,"  she  whispered. 

He  waited  still  another  moment. 

"  With  such  a  face  and  such  a  name,"  he  mur- 
mured, "  what  cursed  fate  placed  you  in  such  a  posi- 
tion ?  Maud,"  he  added,  "  you  won't  forget  me  ?" 

"No,  sir  ;  but,  please,  will  you  not  hasten  ?" 

Turning  abruptly,  he  walked  as  fast  as  long 
strides  could  carry  him  in  the  direction  of  the 
Montvale  House. 


A  BIT   Of  HISTORY.  §1 


CHAPTER  II. 

A      BIT       OF       HISTORY. 

And  now,  with  the  reader's  permission,  the  author 
proposes  to  take  him  back  a  good  many  years  and 
to  give  him  as  much  as  is  wise  at  this  time  of  the 
history  of  the  Linnettes*  family. 

In  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  term  this  family  had 
its  beginning  with  the  uncle  of  young  Mr.  Roland, 
who  made  his  appearance  in  the  last  chapter. 

Willard  Linnette  and  his  brother  Payson  were 
common  workmen  up  to  the  day  when  the  former 
made  his  great  discovery,  now  so  well  known  to 
everybody  interested  in  searching  the  heavens.  His 
fortune  came  to  him,  as  it  were,  at  one  bound. 
Within  five  years  from  the  time  he  established  his 
small  shop  at  Ashfield  he  purchased  the  entire  site 
of  the  coming  village  of  Montvale,  and  began  pre- 
parations for  the  future  manufactories,  the  busy 
streets,  and  the  elegant  estate  upon  which  he  was  to 
rear  his  own  palatial  residence. 

"  I  am  going  to  be  a  very  rich  man,"  he  said  to 
his  architect  when  he  first  took  him  to  Montvale, 
a  and  I  want  all  my  preparations  made  on  a  large 
scale.  On  this  side,  we  must  lay  out  the  site  for  a 
village.  Over  here  will  be  the  factories.  Here  we 
shall  have  cottages  for  the  workmen,  and  beyond 
them  a  hotel.  In  this  direction  I  have  reserved  fifty 


22  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

acres  for  a  home.  That  is  the  best  part  of  my  pur- 
chase, and  as  soon  as  I  have  the  money  to  spare  I  in- 
tend to  build  a  large  house  upon  it." 

The  architect  smilingly  inquired  if  a  wife  was 
among  the  early  probabilities. 

"  Who  can  tell  ?"  was  the  reply,  delivered  in  a 
serious  manner,  which  did  not  convey  much  in- 
formation. 

In  time  the  projected  factories  sent  up  their 
smoke  ;  long  rows  of  cottages  housed  the  workmen, 
which  finally  numbered  more  than  six  hundred  ;  the 
hotel  took  its  place  in  line,  and  the  other  appurten- 
ances of  a  village  appeared  in  all  directions. 

Some  years  later  work  was  begun  upon  a  resi- 
dence in  the  reservation  that  Mr.  Linnette  had  set 
aside  for  himself,  and  the  townspeople  had  enough 
to  talk  about  when  they  saw  the  remarkable  extent 
of  the  edifice.  The  house  seemed  large  enough  to 
accommodate  twenty  or  thirty  people,  though  noth- 
ing transpired  which  indicated  any  other  occupant 
than  its  owner  and  his  servants.  Mr.  Linnette  dis- 
couraged those  few  persons  who  deemed  themselves 
sufficiently  privileged  to  make  hints  in  his  presence 
in  relation  to  the  matter,  and  it  became  not  only  a 
nine  days'  but  a  nine  years'  wonder. 

Besides  the  residence  itself  there  were  several 
smaller  buildings  inside  the  grounds,  evidently 
intended  for  the  use  of  assistants  upon  the  place. 
Extensive  stables,  carriage  houses,  ice  houses,  and 
other  appurtenances  to  the  home  of  a  man  of  large 
property  were  also  erected.  Conservatories,  grav- 
eled drives,  gardens,  etc.,  followed. 


A   BIT   OF   HISTORY.  23 

Then,  one  day,  without  any  apparent  reason,  all  of 
the  work,  none  of  which  was  in  a  finished  state,  was 
instantly  suspended.  For  a  long  period  the  build- 
ings stood,  to  the  wonder  and  astonishment  of  the 
villagers,  in  the  dead  silence  of  their  untouched 
surroundings,  the  closed  gates  of  the  great  estate 
barred  and  locked  against  every  one. 

And  then,  as  unexpectedly  as  the  work  had  been 
stopped,  it  began  again.  Out  of  the  stillness  the 
sound  of  the  chisel,  the  hammer,  and  the  saw 
sounded  once  more.  A  large  company  of  mechan- 
ics, brought  from  a  distance,  proceeded  with  des- 
patch to  complete  the  work  on  the  original  plan. 
Everything  that  had  been  contemplated  was  finished, 
down  to  the  smallest  detail.  Large  sums  were  also 
expended  on  the  furnishing  of  the  house. 

"  What  can  it  mean  !"  cried  the  people  of  thq 
village.  "  Is  the  master  about  to  marry  ?  Yes,  that 
must  be  it.  He  is  preparing  a  home  for  his  ne\| 
wife  !" 

But  the  work  went  on  and  Willard  Linnett^ 
moved  into  the  house  ;  and,  with  the  exception  otf 
the  ordinary  servants  necessary  to  such  a  place,  and 
the  occasional  visits  of  his  brother  Payson,  no  one 
came  to  the  grand  mansion. 

Payson  was  an  entirely  different  man  from  his 
brother.  Willard  had  made  a  great  effort  to  interest 
him  in  his  early  discoveries,  being  more  than  will- 
ing to  share  his  success  with  him.  It  early  became 
evident,  however,  that  Payson  knew  nothing  what- 
ever about  business  and  disliked  everything  relat- 
ing to  it.  In  the  days  of  their  extreme  poverty  he 


24  LOVB  AT  SEVENTY. 

had  performed  the  labor  necessary  to  sustain 
with  ill-concealed  detestation,  but  upon  being 
released  his  mind  ran  rather  to  the  poetic  than  to 
the  commonplace,  and  he  proved  completely  useless 
when  transferred  to  the  counting  room  of  the  new 
concern.  Much  to  his  satisfaction,  though  to  his 
brother's  great  regret,  he  was  soon  retired  on  a 
handsome  income.  He  established  his  residence  in 
the  city  of  New  York,  where  he  attached  himself  to 
societies  for  the  discovery  and  advancement  of 
various  things,  and  also  occasionally  varied  the 
monotony  of  his  life  by  publishing,  at  his  own 
expense,  erudite  works  that  found  their  way  to  the 
upper  shelves  of  libraries  and  remained  there  undis- 
turbed. 

The  one  thing  that  varied  this  programme  was  his 
marriage  to  a  lady  who  only  lived  long  enough  to 
present  him  with  a  son.  Undoubtedly  he  mourned 
her  loss,  but  after  all  he  was  better  fitted  to  live  a 
single  than  a  wedded  life. 

The  owner  of  Montvale  had  no  confidants.  He 
began  housekeeping  with  the  assistance  of  a  Mrs. 
Martin,  a  rather  severe-featured  woman  of  forty 
years  or  so,  who  for  A  long  time  managed  all  the 
internal  economies  of  the  place  so  as  to  suit  him  fairly 
well  and  to  please  herself  admirably.  It  was  his 
habit  to  rise  at  four  o'clock  in  summer  and  five  in 
winter,  and  stroll  over  his  grounds.  He  visited  the 
stables,  criticising  the  care  given  to  the  animals  there, 
or  inspected  the  kennels  to  make  sure  his  dogs  were 
looking  well.  He  also  had  many  long  talks  with 
a  landscape  gardener  that  he  had  imported  to 


A   BIT  OF  HISTORY.  25 

give  additional  beauty  to  his  naturally  attractive 
grounds. 

In  those  days  Willard  Linnette  Seemed  at  peace. 
He  loved  to  reflect  that  all  these  things  had  come  to 
him  through  his  own  discoveries  ;  that  it  was  only  a 
few  years  since  he  had  been  a  common  workingman, 
of  whom  nobody  knew  and  for  whom  nobody  cared. 
It  was  a  pleasure  to  walk  through  this  estate,  and 
the  works  down  there  in  the  valley,  and  the  streets 
of  the  growing  village,  and  know  that  he  had  created 
them  all. 

And  he  was  generous,  too.  He  founded  local 
charities  and  endowed  them  liberally.  He  was  looked 
up  to  by  every  one,  from  the  humblest  laborer  in 
his  employ  to  the  clergymen  who  officiated  at  the 
Montvale  churches.  The  great  astronomers  of  the 
world  wrote  him  autograph  letters  of  congratula- 
tion. He  Was  the  subject  of  many  newspaper  and 
magazine  articles,  and  an  honorary  member  of  sev- 
eral astronomical  societies.  What  a  change  for  the 
man  who,  such  a  little  while  ago,  had  shovelled 
cinders  at  Ashfield  ! 

It  is  from  contrasts  like  this  that  much  of  the 
comfort  in  this  world  is  derived.  No  one  so  enjoys 
the  outer  air  as  the  convalescent  who  has  been  con- 
fined for  months  to  a  room.  No  one  knows  the  joy 
there  is  in  a  drink  of  water  like  the  traveller  who  has 
well-nigh  perished  of  thirst  before  reaching  the 
oasis. 

But,  had  he  completed  that  great  house  and  those 
extensive  grounds  for  his  own  use  alone  ?  Yes  ;  and 
no.  Perhaps  he  would  have  done  the  same,  had  he 


26  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

had  no  intention  of  sharing  them  with  any  other 
person,  merely  for  the  pleasure  of  possessing  such 
an  elegant  establishment.  Still,  it  was  largely  on 
account  of  his  brother's  infant  that  he  set  up  house- 
keeping on  such  an  immense  scale. 

After  the  death  of  Roland's  mother,  Willard  Lin- 
nette,  on  his  occasional  visits  to  Payson,  found  him 
so  engrossed  in  his  books  that  he  hardly  seemed  to 
know  there  was  a  baby  to  bear  his  name.  The  child 
was  left  entirely  to  the  care  of  servants,  and  though 
this  may  have  been  quite  as  well  for  its  health  at 
that  period  of  his  life,  it  distressed  the  kind  heart  of 
the  uncle,  who  soon  conceived  for  the  half-orphaned 
boy  a  very  warm  affection.  Having  no  closer  ties  he 
early  formed  a  resolution  to  make  this  little  fellow 
his  heir  ;  and  the  real  father,  who  might  not  have 
been  able  to  recognize  his  child  out  of  a  dozen,  on  a 
wager,  was  quite  content  so  long  as  he  was  not  to  be 
troubled  in  any  way  about  him. 

Mrs.  Martin,  who  presided  over  the  household 
affairs  of  the  elder  brother,  and  ruled  them,  it  must 
be  said,  with  a  rod  of  iron,  welcomed  the  young 
stranger  doubtfully.  But  she  soon  found  that  she 
was  to  have  very  little  to  do  with  him.  A  suitable 
retinue  of  special  attendants  was  engaged,  and 
Roland  was  to  all  intents  and  purposes  as  much  at 
home  as  if  he  had  been  the  real  son  of  the  owner  of 
Montvale. 

This  condition  of  things,  if  it  did  nothing  else, 
relieved  the  optician  of  one  cause  for  worry.  Since 
his  fortune  had  been  accumulating  so  fast  he  had 
speculated  a  great  deal  as  to  what  ought  to  be  done 


A   BIT  OF   HI8TOBT.  27 

with  it,  in  the  event  of  his  death.  He  felt  that  it 
would  be  useless  to  leave  to  his  brother  a  larger 
income  than  he  now  enjoyed,  which  he  had  reason 
to  know  was  much  bigger  than  he  Sound  use  for. 
His  lawyers  had  made  various  wills  for  him,  havinp1 
reference  mainly  to  the  spiritual  needs  of  sundry 
natives  of  the  Guinea  coast  and  Kamschatka.  He 
now  had  them  draw  up  another  leaving  the  bulk  of 
his  property  to  Roland,  without  restrictions. 

The  elder  Dombey,  in  Dickens'  delightful  story, 
never  felt  more  certain  that  little  Paul  would  become 
a  famous  figure  in  his  house  than  did  Willard  Lin- 
nette  that  Roland  would  be  his  partner  in  the  Mont- 
vale  Optical  Works  when  he  became  of  age.  As 
soon  as  the  boy  was  old  enough  to  understand,  the 
uncle  liked  nothing  better  than  taking  him  through 
the  manufactories,  and  impressing  upon  him  the 
various  processes  required  to  make  the  telescopes 
which  brought  him  his  fortune  and  reputation.  He 
fondly  dreamed  of  a  time  when  Roland  would  build 
the  name  of  Linnette  still  higher  among  astronomers. 

It  was  well  that  he  enjoyed  these  reflections  while 
he  was  able  to  do  so,  for  as  the  lad  grew  older  it 
became  apparent  that  he  had  none  of  those  instincts 
which  the  future  owner  of  such  an  establishment 
ought  to  possess.  The  boy  liked  a  gun,  and  a  horse, 
and  a  story  book,  especially  if  the  book  dealt  in 
tales  of  travel  and  adventure  ;  but  he  turned  wearily 
from  his  arithmetic  and  physics,  and  could  not  con- 
ceal how  thoroughly  he  was  bored  when  the  con- 
versation turned  upon  the  newest  comet  or  the  dis- 


28  LOVK  AT  SEVENTY. 

covery  of  a  star  of  the  seventeenth  magnitude  by 

some  searcher  in  Madagascar. 

The  uncle  hid  his  disappointment  as  best  he  could, 
saying  to  himself  at  first  that  the  boy  was  young, 
and  that  it  was  too  soon  to  expect  his  mind  to 
develop  in  these  directions.  He  sent  him  away  to 
school,  impressing  upon  the  principal  the  necessity 
of  paying  particular  attention  to  such  studies  as 
would  assist  the  lad  in  managing  his  future  trusts. 

Roland  stayed  through  the  time  allotted  him,  but 
his  professors  failed  entirely  to  alter  his  natural 
bent,  in  spite  of  their  most  vigorous  efforts.  They 
were  obliged  to  admit,  when  they  had  done  all  they 
could,  that  while  he  was  most  proficient  in  history, 
he  made  a  very  poor  showing  in  algebra  and 
geometry.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  getting  a  hun- 
dred per  cent,  in  geography,  and  he  was  the  best 
pupil  they  had  in  modern  languages  ;  but  a  logarithm 
was  entirely  beyond  his  comprehension,  and  all 
attempts  to  interest  him  in  astronomy  were  dismal 
failures. 

When  Willard  Linnette  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  these  facts  he  did  just  the  opposite  to  what 
many  men  in  his  position  would  have  done.  He  put 
all  his  hopes  aside,  and  began  to  realize  that  he  had 
no  reason  to  expect  any  other  result.  The  boy's 
father  was  a  dreamer  and  a  poet,  and  his  mother 
had  come  of  a  race  of  clergymen.  What  was  there 
in  this  lineage  to  warrant  an  expectation  that  he 
would  have  an  adaptability  to  things  scientific  ? 
Linnette  loved  his  nephew,  and  as  he  could  not 
make  him  what  he  had  wished,  he  resolved  to  let 


A  BIT  OF   HISTORY.  29 

him  pursue  his  own  way,  with  every  advantage  that 
money  could  give. 

When  the  young  man  came  home  from  school  the 
uncle  sat  down  and  had  a  long  talk  with  him.  He 
told  him  frankly  that  he  had  expected  to  teach  him 
his  own  business,  but  being  convinced  that  it  was 
not  to  his  liking  he  should  say  no  more  about  it. 
He  then  urged  the  lad  to  open  his  heart,  and  to  say 
for  what  profession  he  believed  himself  best  fitted. 

Roland,  till  then  unspoiled  as  any  youth  imagin- 
able, felt  the  blood  rush  to  his  brain  at  the  tender- 
ness thus  exhibited.  He  had  come  to  regard  this 
man  as  a  father,  much  more  than  that  other  relation 
to  whom  he  \vas  in  the  habit  of  paying  a  brief  visit 
about  once  a  year.  He  expressed  his  regret  that  his 
uncle  should  find  him  lacking  in  the  qualities  he 
desired,  but  admitted  that  there  was  nothing  attrac- 
tive to  him  about  a  business  or  scientific  career.  As 
to  what  he  would  eventually  prefer  for  an  occupation 
he  could  hardly  say  as  yet,  but  for  the  present  he 
would  like  to  travel  in  some  of  the  foreign  countries 
whose  history  interested  him  so  much  and  whose 
tongues  he  had  acquired. 

"  I  am  quite  pleased  that  this  is  your  desire,"  said 
Mr.  Linnette,  kindly.  "There  is  nothing  like  travel 
to  develop  the  mind.  I  shall  miss  you  very  much,  but 
if  you  make  good  use  of  your  opportunities  I  shall 
be  willing,  for  your  sake,  to  endure  the  separation." 

Roland  replied,  with  real  feeling,  and  asked  how 
soon  he  might  start. 

"Whenever   you    are    ready/'  was    the   answer 


30  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 

"That  is,  if  your  father  has  no  objections.  Of 
course  he  must  be  consulted." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Roland,  with  constraint.  "  I 
will  write  to  him  at  once." 

This  fiction  of  consulting  Mr.  Payson  Linnette 
had  been  followed  from  the  first,  though  both 
Roland  and  his  uncle  understood  perfectly  that  it 
was  a  merely  perfunctory  affair. 

"I  shall  not  limit  you  in  the  matter  of  expense," 
said  Mr.  Linnette,  when  the  time  of  parting  came. 
"Make  your  journey  as  long  or  as  short  as  it  suits 
you.  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  you  travel  in  any- 
thing but  the  best  manner,  and  I  wish  to  leave  you 
the  sole  judge  in  everything.  Only — wherever  you 
go — remember  that  you  are  a  gentleman." 


"YOU   DO   NOT   KNOW   JULIB."  31 


CHAPTER   III. 

"  VOU    DO    NOT    KNOW    JULIE." 

Thus  it  happened  that,  when  he  had  barely  reached 
his  nineteenth  birthday,  Roland  Linnette  found  him- 
self on  English  soil,  with  no  commission  except  to  do 
as  he  liked,  and  with  unlimited  means  to  draw  upon. 
He  was  in  good  health  and  of  a  pleasing  face  and 
figure.  A  young  fellow  to  be  envied,  will  say,  I  am 
very  sure,  the  majority  of  my  readers.  A  young 
fellow  to  be  pitied  will  be  the  verdict  of  a  minority, 
and  perhaps  they^re  the  nearer  right  of  the  two. 

Roland  saw  considerable  of  Europe — much  more, 
in  fact,  than  he  described  in  the  letters  which  he 
wrote  home.  His  uncle's  life  was  too  busy,  and  his 
father's  too  poetic,  to  give  them  much  apprehension 
in  relation  to  him.  But  it  is  as  well  established  as 
any  fact  in  chemistry  that  most  young  men  need 
some  object  in  life,  some  kind  of  useful  employment, 
to  keep  them  out  of  mischief.  Give  them  plenty  of 
money  and  abundant  leisure,  and  in  nine  cases  out 
of  ten  they  will  find  use  for  both  in  ways  which  the 
judicious  might  not  wholly  approve. 

Many  young  men  would  have  been  irretrievably 
ruined  by  the  course  which  young  Linnette  passed 
through  during  his  stay  abroad,  but  there  was  one 
thing  which  saved  him  from  sinking  below  a  certain 
point.  He  retained,  through  everything,  an  inborn 


82  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

love  for  the  beautiful.  Though  he  had  developed 
no  particular  talent  as  an  artist,  he  had  an  intense 
appreciation  of  form  and  color,  a  love  of  beauty  for 
beauty's  sake. 

If  idleness  led  him  to  degrade  his  ideals  he  never 
wholly  forgot  them. 

Like  the  statues  of  the  old  masters,  which  the 
excavator  finds  buried  deep  in  the  clay  of  centuries, 
the  original  loveliness  was  still  there  in  the  caverns 
of  his  mind,  and  at  the  slightest  appeal  to  his  senses 
it  came  newly-born  to  the  surface. 

Had  he  remained  in  England  his  morals  might 
easily  have  survived  all  the  onslaughts  made  upon 
them.  As  he  strolled  through  the  unfamiliar  streets 
of  Liverpool,  on  the  night  following  his  arrival,  he  was 
horrified  by  the  women  who  accosted  him,  leering 
with  reddened  eyes  into  his  face,  and  breathing 
brown  stout  and  gin  into  his  nostrils.  The  high- 
ways seemed  to  be  full  of  them.  He  could  easily 
believe  it  when  he  afterwards  read  in  some  book  of 
statistics  that  there  were  more  of  this,  class  in  pro- 
portion to  the  population  in  that  great  maritime  city 
than  in  any  other  spot  in  Christendom.  He  was 
glad  when  he  reached  his.  hotel,  for  he  felt  like  one 
who  had  passed  through  a  territory  infested  with 
poisonous  and  ugly  reptiles.  He  wondered  if  any 
man  could  be  found  so  low  as  to  accept  the  fearful 
invitations  with  which  his.  ears  had  been  dinned* 

From  Liverpool  he  went  to  Chester,  and  walked 
upon  the  Roman  walls ;  then  through  the  pastoral 
country,  rich  in  historic  interest,  lying  between  it 
and  London,  stopping  at  Stratford-on-Avon,  War- 


YOU    DO    NOT   KNOW   JULIE."  33 

wick  Castle,  and  other  well-known  resorts,  where 
almost  as  many  Americans  as  Englishmen  are  en- 
countered. In  these  places  nothing  meretricious 
disturbed  him.  If  there  be  women  of  easy  virtue  in 
that  region  they  are  not  foisted  upon  the  notice  of 
unwilling  travellers,  as  they  are  at  the  seaboard. 
Then  he  reached  London,  where  he  found  a  condi- 
tion of  things  second  only  to  that  of  Liverpool,  and 
which  shocks  and  astounds  every  man  who  comes 
from  this  side  of  the  ocean,  and  has  occasion  to  walk 
out  after  ten  o'clock  at  night,  in  the  metropolis  of 
the  world. 

Roland  stayed  in  London  a  fortnight  and  would 
have  stayed  longer  but  for  the  unbearable  annoyance 
of  the  crowd  of  women  who  seemed  to  think  him 
their  natural  and  legitimate  prey,  and  who  pursued 
him  with  a  persistency  equalled  by  nothing  on  earth, 
unless  it  be  the  beggars  at  Naples  or  Cairo.  He 
anticipated  great  enjoyment  in  strolling  at  night 
through  the  half-deserted  streets,  examining  the 
exteriors  with  which  his  reading  made  him  familiar. 
But  everywhere,  to  his  consternation,  he  found  a 
legion  of  scarlet  women  on  his  track. 

He  took  lodgings  in  Russell  Square,  and  if  there 
is  a  respectable  square  in  London  it  is  this  one,  and 
found  the  streets  leading  from  it  infested  with  them. 
He  followed  the  advice  of  his  guidebook  and  rode 
into  the  suburbs  on  omnibuses,  walking  back  so  as 
to  inspect  the  various  localities  more  at  his  leisure. 
Wherever  he  went,  they  were  before  him.  At 
Piccadilly  Circus  they  were  more  plenty  than  the 
legitimate  patrons  of  the  conveyances  which  start 


34:  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

from  there  to  every  corner  of  London.  They  were 
almost  as  numerous  in  the  streets  of  South  Ken- 
sington as  in  Commercial  Road,  Whitechapel,  or 
Petticoat  Lane. 

One  evening,  when  he  had  to  walk  at  a  late  hour 
through  Oxford  Street,  it  seemed  to  him  that  their 
pickets  were  placed  as  regularly  as  those  of  an 
army.  They  would  accept  neither  his  indignant 
negatives  nor  his  sullen  silence.  Sometimes  they 
followed  him  for  blocks,  recounting  the  advantages 
of  their  propositions,  making  a  price  and  then 
lowering  it  like  a  Dutch  auctioneer,  and  finally 
dismissing  him  with  a  curse. 

Long  after,  he  learned  the  reason  why  none  of 
the  members  of  the  immense  police  force  of  London 
make  any  interference  with  these  people.  One  of 
them  happened  to  arrest  a  respectable  lady,  by  mis- 
take, several  years  ago,  and  naturally  a  great  fuss  was 
made  about  it.  In  order  to  be  perfectly  sure  not  to 
repeat  this  error,  no  similar  arrests  have  been  made 
in  London  from  that  day  to  this. 

Crossing  the  Channel  at  Dover,  Roland  stopped 
at  but  one  or  two  places  of  historic  interest  before 
he  reached  Paris.  Strolling  with  a  new  sense  of 
delight  along  the  Grand  Boulevards,  upon  the  quays 
and  through  the  numerous  parks,  he  found  women 
there,  too  ;  not  as  plenty  as  they  had  been  in  Lon- 
don, but  numerous  enough.  And  what  an  astound- 
ing difference!  Soft-voiced  demoiselles,  tastily  clad 
§hot  glances  at  him  with  their  "  bon  jours"  from 
which  it  was  not  easy  to  turn  away.  When  he 
invited  one  of  them — as  he  did,  why  should  I 


WTOU   DO    NOT    KNOW    JULIE."  35 

falsify  for  him  ? — to  sit  at  a  little  table  in  front  of  a 
restaurant,  she  sipped  light  wine  from  a  petit  vtrrc 
and  replied  to  his  interrogations  in  modest  mono- 
syllables that  won  his  Anglo-Saxon  heart  and  turned 
his  Anglo-Saxon  brain. 

As  they  sat  there  he  mentally  appraised  the  gar- 
ments she  wore,  marvelling  at  the  taste  displayed  in 
making  very  ordinary  materials  so  attractive.  From 
the  bits  of  straw  and  lace  which  formed  her  hat  to 
the  exquisite  bottines  which  clad  her  dainty  feet, 
everything  excited  his  admiration.  He  compared 
her  eloquent  silence  to  the  noisy  chatter  of  women 
of  her  class  that  he  had  seen  elsewhere,  and  knew 
that  it  would  embarrass  him  even  to  say  good- 
night. 

The  American  had  no  idea  of  completing  this 
acquaintance  at  the  first  interview,  and  began  to 
wonder  how  he  should  manage  to  continue  it.  He 
began  by  inventing  tales  of  an  engagement  for  this 
particular  evening,  and  instantly  realized  from  her 
unmoved  countenance  that  she  did  not  believe  a 
word  of  his  explanation. 

"  I  shall  have  to  leave  you,"  he  said,  diffidently, 
trying  to  stare  his  watch  out  of  countenance. 
"  Could  you — could  you  come  here  to-morrow,  at 
six?  I  should  like  to  have  you  take  dinner  with  me. 
But — "  he  had  read  many  French  novels —  "  I  sup- 
pose you  have  a  lover — " 

"  No," she  replied,  looking  him  in  the  eye  in  away 
that  made  it  impossible  to  doubt  her. 

"  May  I — you  won't  be  offended — " 

She  bowed  absently,  in  a  way  that  made  him  feel 


36  LOVE  AT  8KTENTT. 

that  she  was  conferring  a  favor  rather  than  receiving 
one. 

He  slipped  two  louis  into  her  hand. 

The  next  day  was  the  longest  one  of  his  life.  At 
six  she  met  him,  as  agreed,  and  they  dined  at  one  of 
the  great  restaurants  on  the  Boulevard  des  Italians. 
When  he  asked  her  to  show  him  where  she  lived,  she 
demurred,  saying  that  her  apartment  was  in  an 
unfashionable  quarter  and  very  plainly  furnished. 
When  he  had  overcome  her  scruples,  they  took  a 
carriage  and  rode  quite  a  long  distance.  Passing 
through  a  courtyard  they  climbed  many  stairs  to  her 
room  at  the  top  of  the  house.  Roland  looked  out 
of  the  window  upon  a  wilderness  of  roofs,  and  bits 
of  the  Seine,  and  little  vistas  of  streets  and  parks  in 
the  distance,  and  a  stretch  of  railroad. 

Plainly  furnished  it  certainly  was,  but  everything 
was  of  the  most  scrupulous  neatness.  The  counter- 
pane of  the  bed  was  as  white  as  snow.  The  window 
curtains  were  tastily  tied  with  bright  ribbons. 
From  a  bracket  a  pair  of  canaries  hung  in  a  brass 
cage.  And  what  riveted  the  stranger's  attention 
most  was  the  fact  that  nearly  every  inch  of  the  wall 
was  covered  with  pictures  arranged  with  great  care  ; 
pictures  which  had  cost  almost  nothing,  being  made 
up  of  supplements  to  the  cheaper  newspapers,  but 
which  gave  a  cheerful  air  to  the  apartment,  and 
made  him  feel  for  the  first  time  since  he  had  left 
America  that  he  was  in  a  real  home. 

Willard  Linnette's  money  came  freely  and  Julie 
chared  it  with  Roland.  In  the  first  flush  of  what  he 
imagined  was  his  love  for  the  girl,  he  promised  her 


"YOU   DO   NOT   KNOW  JULIB."  17 

something  like  eternal  fidelity  and  she   gave   him 

evidence  of  an  intention  to  take  him  at  his  word. 
But  at  the  end  of  six  months  in  Paris  the  American 
began  to  think  it  high  time  to  take  his  departure 
for  other  parts  of  Europe.  Letters  from  his  uncle 
contained  mild  hints  that  he  was  making  too  long 
a  stay  in  one  city,  and  the  approach  of  winter  began 
to  remind  him  of  Italy. 

Now,  mademoiselle  was  all  very  well  in  her  own 
sphere,  but  he  could  not  see  how  he  was  going  to 
travel  with  her.  He  confided  to  one  of  his  masculine 
French  acquaintances  that  he  feared  a  scene  when 
he  had  to  tell  Julie  he  must  leave. 

His  friend  stared  at  him  with  unconcealed 
wonder. 

"  You  surely  do  not  intend  to  tell  her  ?"  he 
exclaimed. 

"  How  can  I  help  it  ?" 

The  Parisian  smiled  softly. 

"  When  there  is  an  easy  way  to  do  anything,  and 
a  difficult  way,  why  should  you  choose  the  hard 
one  ?" 

"  An  easy  way  ?"  repeated  the  American. 

"To  be  sure.  If  you  tell  her  you  are  going,  she 
may  only  have  a  crying  spell  ;  but  it  is  much  more 
likely  she  will  tear  your  eyes  out !" 

It  was  now  Roland's  turn  to  smile. 

"You  do  not  know  Julie,"  he  said.  "She  never 
shows  the  least  symptom  of  temper.". 

"Naturally,"  responded  the  other.  "There  has 
been  nothing  to  cause  it.  You  have  given  her  every- 
thing she  has  wanted,  and  she  believes  herself  settled 


38  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

for  years  in  her  present  comfortable  position.  Tell 
her  to-morrow  that  you  intend  to  give  her  the 
go-by,  and  my  word  for  it,  you  will  have  a  different 
entertainment.  These  girls  are  precisely  like  cats. 
Stroke  their  fur  the  right  way  and  you  will  never  see 
the  steel  that  lies  hidden  beneath  their  velvet  claws. 
Stroke  it  just  once  the  wrong  way,  and — presto  ! — 
out  will  fly  the  sharp  briers  and  your  skin  will  be 
lacerated.  Oh,  you  are  not  obliged  to  believe  me  ! 
You  can  try  it  yourself  if  you  prefer." 

But  Roland  did  not  fancy  trying  it  himself. 

"  How  can  I  get  away  ?"  he  asked,  helplessly. 

"  Easily  enough.  She  goes  every  morning  to  her 
mother's,  does  she  not,  to  take  her  d£jeuner-a-la- 
fourchette  ?  When  she  departs  she  inquires  at  what 
hour  you  wish  her  to  return.  You  respond  that  you 
will  expect  her  at  six  o'clock  for  dinner.  That  gives 
you  seven  hours  in  which  to  leave  the  city.  You 
will  pack  your  things,  call  a  cab  and  skip  to  the 
station,  leaving  a  little  note  to  say  that  a  telegram 
has  been  received  informing  you  of  the  dangerous 
illness  of  a  kinsman  in  England." 

"You  mean  America,"  interpolated  Roland,  more 
for  the  sake  of  saying  something  than  because  he 
considered  the  difference  important. 

"America  or  England,  it  is  all  the  same.  Julie 
thinks  them  one  country,  I'll  wager  fifty  francs. 
These  Parisian  girls  have  no  more  idea  of  geography 
than  an  oyster.  They  always  divide  the  world  into 
two  parts — Paris  and  the  rest — and  believe  Paris  by 
far  the  larger.  Leave  her  the  note,  saying  that  your 
relation  in  England  is  dying,  and  that  you  were 


KYOU   DO   NOT   KNOW   JULJB."  39 

summoned  in  such  haste  that  you  could  not  wait  to 
kiss  her  good-by.  Put  a  nice  little  sum  of  money  in 
the  envelope,  to  soften  her  regrets.  Pay  the  con- 
cierge three  months  in  advance  for  her  lodgings,  and 
—there  you  are  !" 

The  author  of  this  ingenious  plan  spread  open  the 
palms  of  his  hands  and  shrugged  his  shoulders,  after 
the  manner  of  his  countrymen. 

But  Roland's  face  was  very  grave. 

"It  seems  contemptible,"  he  said.  "  Julie  cares  a 
great  deal  for  me." 

"  So  she  will  for  your  successor,"  laughed  the 
Frenchman.  "  Bah  !" 

"  She  really  is  a  very  nice  girl,"  mused  Roland, 
regretfully. 

"  I  am  sure  you  have  found  her  so,"  replied  the 
Other.  "  And  that  is  a  strong  reason  why  you  should 
take  nothing  away  but  pleasant  memories.  It  is  a 
good  rule  never  to  look  into  a  coffin." 

In  a  dolorous  voice  Roland  stammered  that  this 
would  be  his  last  adventure  of  this  kind. 

"  Cla  va  sans  dire,1'  laughed  the  other.  "  Well, 
which  will  you  do,  follow  my  suggestion  or  your  own 
fancy  ?  Because,  if  you  are  determined  to  say  good- 
by  to  her  in  person,  I  shall  think  it  necessary  to  send 
up  a  surgeon  on  the  morning  of  your  departure." 

The  affair  of  Julie,  Roland  Linnette  used  to  think 
in  after  years,  when  he  looked  back  upon  it,  was 
only  a  slight  incident  in  his  life.  There  soon  came 
a  time  when  he  regarded  the  delicate  scruples  he 
exhibited  as  the  most  senseless  things  in  the  world. 
But  the  sentiments  of  which  he  grew  ashamed  did 


40  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY". 

him  more  credit  than  those  which  supplanted  them. 
Those  feelings  of  compassion  with  which  the  French 
girl  inspired  him  marked  a  mile-post  on  the  road  he 
was  to  travel,  separating  widely  the  two  extremes  of 
his  life. 

The  first  place  he  went  to  after  leaving  Paris  was 
Switzerland,  where  he  soon  forgot  his  resolutions  in 
the  smiles  of  a  fair  daughter  of  Geneva.  He  then 
toured  the  principal  cities  of  Italy,  finding  a  new 
divinity  in  each.  He  crossed  to  Africa  and  basked 
consecutively  in  the  sunlight  of  a  Tunisian,  an 
Algerian  and  an  Egyptian.  After  that  he  passed 
through  Asia.  And  everywhere  he  saw  more  of  the 
women  of  the  land  than  of  the  topographical 
beauties,  or  the  handiwork  of  ancient  or  modern 
men. 

In  Rome  he  visited  the  Colisseum,  the  Vatican,  the 
Forums  and  the  great  churches ;  but  when  he 
recalled  that  city  the  clearest  thing  in  his  memory 
was  a  dark-eyed  girl,  who  babbled  to  him  in  the  soft 
accents  of  her  native  tongue,  as  they  wandered 
about  under  the  moonlight,  one  of  his  arms  around 
her  slender  waist.  He  admired  the  bay  of  Naples, 
which  he  thought  inferior  only  to  that  of  Genoa, 
explored  the  depths  of  Herculaneum,  walked 
through  the  ashen  streets  of  Pompeii  and  climbed 
the  steep  sides  of  Vesuvius  ;  but  he  remembered 
better  than  any  of  these  the  oval  beauty  of  a  Neapol- 
itaine,  with  whom  he  drove  back  to  the  city  late  at 
night,  eating  grapes  they  had  stolen  from  a  vineyard. 
He  rode  in  gondolas  over  the  watery  streets  of 
Venice,  the  nearest  like  dreamland  that  any  mortal 


"YOU   DO   NOT   KNOW   JULIB."  41 

city  could  be  ;  but  always  in  the  foreground  of  his 
vision,  when  he  recalled  the  place,  was  the  drooping 
head  of  a  young  girl,  sitting  by  his  side  in  a  boat  on 
the  Grand  Canal,  her  dark  hair  falling  over  a  low 
forehead,  her  white  hand  making  ripples  in  the  wave. 

In  Berlin  and  Stockholm  he  saw  the  tragedy  of 
Faust  and  Margherita  re-enacted,  a  flaxen-locked 
young  woman,  with  braided  hair  and  tinted  bodice, 
taking  the  now  familiar  role  of  the  beguiled  one. 
Even  in  Japan  and  China,  on  the  plains  of  Tartary 
and  in  the  City  of  Mosques  he  always  found  his 
stay  made  more  agreeable  by  some  sweet  creature 
with  the  charm  of  femininity  and  the  bloom  of  youth. 

Years  later,  when  asked  the  exact  appearance  of  a 
certain  historical  part  of  Jerusalem,  he  was  forced  to 
admit  his  forgetfulness  ;  but  he  could  have  recognized 
without  question  the  photograph  of  a  certain  Zerlina 
whom  he  knew  there.  And  when,  after  belting  the 
globe,  he  landed  from  the  Oriental  steamer  at  San 
Francisco,  he  confessed  that  his  greatest  anxiety 
after  years  of  absence  was  to  know  how  well  the 
women  of  his  own  country  compared  with  those  of 
foreign  lands. 

He  would  have  been  surprised,  had  anyone  inti- 
mated such  a  thought,  that  he  had  been  faithless  to 
his  uncle's  advice  when  he  left  home,  to  be  "a 
gentleman"  wherever  he  went.  But  then,  "being  a 
gentleman  "  means  many  things  to  different  people. 


42  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 

CHAPTER     IV, 

THE    HOUSEKEEPER'S    DAUGHTER. 

At  the  risk  of  leaving  Master  Guy  Dalton  stil! 
wandering  through  the  snowdrifts  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Montvale,  in  search  of  employment,  it  is 
necessary  to  relate  at  this  time  something  more  of 
the  experiences  of  the  Linnette  family.  For  some 
time  after  the  departure  of  Roland  for  Europe  the 
affairs  of  his  uncle's  household  continued  to  be  pre- 
sided over  by  Mrs.  Martin.  She  had  become  a 
genuine  fixture  upon  the  place,  and  the  idea  that  she 
could  leave  it  had  never  entered  the  head  of  its 
proprietor.  Her  health  began  to  fail,  however,  and 
one  day  she  announced  that  she  was  about  to  take 
up  her  residence  with  a  son  who  lived  in  Michigan. 

Though  not  without  her  faults,  Mrs.  Martin  was  a 
pattern  of  neatness  and  order.  The  architect  who 
drew  the  plans  of  the  buildings  had  sent  her  on  from 
Philadelphia,  apparently  to  match  the  rest  of  the 
trimmings,  which  were  grand,  solemn  and  impres- 
sive. When  Mr.  Linnette  received  news  of  her 
intention  to  leave  him  he  was  in  a  state  of  conster- 
nation and  did  his  best  to  dissuade  her.  But  the 
housekeeper,  having  made  up  her  mind,  was  not  to 
be  turned  from  it,  and  when  the  next  month  ex- 
pired she  went  her  way. 

Mr.  Linnette  had  lived  so  long  with  everything 
arranged  for  him  by  one  set  of  careful  hands  that 


THE  HOUSEKEEPER'S  DAUGHTER.  43 

ior  the  next  few  weeks  he  endured  real  torture. 
The  house  was  all  at  sixes  and  sevens.  His  meals 
were  execrably  served.  His  bed  was  not  made 
right,  though  the  same  chambermaid  attended  to  it 
as  formerly.  He  could  not  find  anything  he  wanted. 
Still  he  dreaded  the  advent  of  a  new  housekeeper 
quite  as  much  as  the  inconveniences  he  was  endur- 
ing ;  and  he  had  just  reached  a  point  where  he 
thought  seriously  of  closing  up  the  house  and  board- 
ing at  the  hotel,  when  he  was  informed  one  evening 
that  a  lady  awaited  him  in  his  parlor. 

It  was  the  first  time  a  lady  had  ever  asked  to  see 
him  in  his  parlor  that  he  could  remember.  The  vil- 
lage people  were  not  of  such  a  social  grade  as  to 
presume  upon  calling  in  that  manner,  and  his  clergy- 
man's wife  was  about  the  only  female  person  he 
knew  who  would  have  felt  justified,  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, in  ringing  his  front  door-bell.  As  he 
sent  his  check  quarterly  to  that  lady's  husband,  and 
limited  his  acquaintance  with  the  ministerial  family 
to  that  extent,  he  did  not  suppose  for  an  instant  that 
his  present  caller  was  the  one  in  question.  He  there- 
fore went  down  with  some  curiosity. 

"I  heard,  sir,  that  you  were  in  want  of  a  house- 
keeper." 

It  was  a  lady  in  mourning  garments  who  spoke. 
So  that  was  all,  eh  ?  He  confessed  to  a  feeling  of 
disappointment.  It  was  a  mere  applicant  for  work. 

"  I  am  in  need  of  a  person  in  the  capacity  which 
you  mention,"  he  replied,  "  but  as  I  have  said  noth- 
ing about  it  in  this  village,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  under- 
stand— " 


44  LOYB   AT  SBVEHTT. 

Mr.  Linnette  stopped  short  in  his  speech,  and  a 
gleam  of  recognition  came  into  his  face. 

"  Why,"  he  exclaimed,  "  it  is  Miss  Moulton  !" 

"No,  it  is  Mrs.  Warren  now,"  she  answered, 
quietly.  "  I  do  not  wonder  you  did  not  recognize  me. 
It  has  been  a  long  time  since  we  met." 

"  And  so  you — you  have  been  married  ?"  he 
responded,  now  speaking  with  complete  cordiality, 
"  And,  excuse  me,  you  are — a  widow  ?" 

She  bowed  pensively. 

"It  has  become  necessary  for  me  to  earn  mj 
living,  Mr.  Linnette,  and  I  think  I  could  suit  you.  I 
should  certainly  try  very  hard." 

He  looked  at  her  in  some  doubt. 

"I  do  not  like  changes,"  he  said.  "I  want  a 
person  who  will  be  permanent.  I  want  one  who 
will  remain  as  long  as  I  live.  Now,  you  are  young, 
and  the  probability  is,  will  marry  again." 

A  shadow  crossed  the  lady's  features. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  never  shall,  I  assure  you,"  she  replied, 
gently. 

"And  you  have  no  attachments,  no  encum- 
brances ?" 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  fearful  lest  what  she  had 
to  say  would  prejudice  him  against  her  cause. 

"  Only  a  child — a  daughter.  I  know  what  you 
will  think,  but  she  is  not  the  least  bit  of  trouble. 
She  is  fifteen  years  of  age,  a  very  good  girl,  too. 
Let  me  show  you  her  picture." 

Upon  which  she  handed  him  the  photograph  of  a 
little  sprite,  with  the  sweetest  expression,  and  with 
hair  hanging  in  a  wavy  mass  about  her  shoulders. 


THE  HOUSEKEEPER'S  DAUGHTEB.  45 

"  My  husband  did  not  leave  us  much,"  continued 
the  mother,  "but  with  economy  we  have  kept  along 
until  now.  It  is  evident  that  I  must  soon  get  em- 
ployment, and  as  I  knew  you — " 

The  old  man  was  holding  the  child's  picture  in 
his  hand  and  gazing  abstractedly  upon  it.  The 
little  one  had  pleaded  her  mother's  cause  success- 
fully. His  heart  went  out  to  her  at  once. 

"  When  can  you  come  ?"  he  asked. 

The  mother  drew  a  deep  breath  of  relief. 

"Then  I  am  really  engaged!  But  you  won't 
refuse  me  leave  to  bring  Eva,  will  you  ?  I  want 
very  little  wages.  Of  course,"  she  added,  doubt- 
fully, "  if  you  insist,  I  shall  have  to  board  her  some- 
where in  the  village." 

He  put  the  photograph  on  the  table,  as  if  he 
accepted  it  as  his  own. 

"  Eva — is  that  her  name  ? — is  part  of  the  contract," 
said  he.  "  Where  are  you  staying  at  present  ?" 

"  We  arrived  at  the  hotel  an  hour  ago." 

"Then  I  suppose  you  can  come  in  the  morning  ?" 

Mrs.  Warren  smiled  an  affirmative. 

"Your  salary  will  be  fifty  dollars  a  month,  the 
same  that  I  paid  Mrs.  Martin.  I  will  send  a  carriage 
for  you  at  nine  o'clock." 

He  rose  and  accompanied  her  to  the  door. 

"  Are  you  alone  ?"  he  asked,  seeing  that  no  one 
was  in  waiting.  "  I  think  I  will  walk  back  with 
you.  It  is  late." 

This  is  how  Eva  and  her  mother — for  it  was  always 
in  this  order  that  they  appeared  to  him — became 
residents  of  the  mansion  of  Willard  Linnette. 


46  LOVE   AT    SEVENTY. 

For  some  weeks  after  Roland's  departure  his 
uncle  had  missed  him  acutely.  Nothing  but  shame 
kept  him  from  writing  to  request  his  return.  Even 
when  at  school  the  boy  had  come  home  at  least  once 
a  fortnight,  and  nearly  the  whole  of  his  vacations 
had  been  passed  there.  At  no  time  was  he  so  far 
away  that  a  few  hours'  ride  would  not  have  sufficed 
to  reach  him  in  an  emergency.  Now,  with  thou- 
sands of  miles  of  land  and  water  between  them,  a 
feeling  of  intense  loneliness  would  often  oppress 
the  foster-father.  But  for  the  coming  of  the  War- 
rens he  surely  would  never  have  consented  to  the 
long  tour  that  his  nephew  made. 

Little  Eva  galloped  into  the  affections  of  the  old 
man  with  as  much  facility  as  she  galloped  about  the 
roads  in  the  neighborhood  on  a  pony  that  he  very 
soon  bought  for  her.  She  even  filled  a  vacancy 
in  his  heart  which  the  boy  had  never  quite  suc- 
ceeded in  doing.  He  found  the  greatest  delight  in 
her  society,  and  thought  nothing  finer  than  to  take 
her  little  hand  in  his  and  stroll  through  the  grounds, 
or  down  to  the  village,  or  over  to  the  works. 

Gossip,  that  plant  which  flourishes  in  all  seasons 
and  at  all  times,  took  up  the  subject,  and  many 
were  the  observations  and  surmises  regarding  the 
strange  fancy  of  the  taciturn  man  for  the  child  of 
his  housekeeper.  As  he  never  heard  any  of  these 
things,  however,  they  did  not  trouble  him.  His 
servants  repelled  with  indignation  the  insinuations 
which  came  to  their  ears,  declaring  that  the  master's 
life  raised  him  above  criticism.  Having  nothing  to 
feed  on,  the  rumors  soon  subsided. 


THE  HOUSEKEEPER'S  DAUGHTER.  47 

Mr.  Linnette  met  his  nephew  at  New  York  and 
welcomed  him  cordially,  though  with  rather  less 
effusiveness  than  the  latter  expected.  When  they 
spoke  of  Montvale,  Mr.  Linnette,  Sr.,  suggested 
guardedly  that  the  young  man  would  probably  find 
much  better  accommodations  at  the  hotel  than  at 
the  family  mansion. 

"  I  live  like  a  sort  of  hermit,"  he  explained,  "  tak- 
ing my  meals  at  random,  and  I'm  afraid  it  would  be 
dull  for  you.  When  you  get  ready  to  come  up  I  will 
arrange  with  Mr.  Hanson  to  give  you  the  best  rooms 
he  has,  and  I  can  meet  you  every  day,  at  the  count- 
ing room." 

So  far  from  being  disagreeable  to  Roland,  this 
plan  entirely  met  his  views.  He  felt  that  it  would 
be  necessary  to  pass  considerable  time  at  Montvale, 
for  the  looks  of  the  thing,  and  he  regarded  the  whole 
affair  as  a  species  of  penance  from  which  there  was 
no  feasible  means  of  escape.  He  had  grown  a  great 
deal  older  in  the  past  three  years.  He  dreaded  the 
sepulchral  air  of  his  uncle's  house,  and  chafed  at 
the  prospect  of  bed  at  nine  and  breakfast  at  six, 
which  he  recalled  as  the  rule  of  former  days.  Life 
at  the  hotel,  though  it  must  be  dreary  enough,  would 
not  involve  these  restrictions.  He  could  come  and 
go  when  he  pleased,  with  no  one  to  interfere.  He 
felt  certain  that  Mr.  Hanson  would  not  spend  much 
time  in  attending  to  things  which  were  none  of  his 
business. 

He  accordingly  responded,  to  his  uncle's  evident 
satisfaction,  that  he  would  be  content  with  any 
arrangements  that  were  made  for  him. 


48  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

"You  have  your  letter  of  credit  on  Baring's  still, 
of  course,"  remarked  the  elder  gentleman. 

"  Oh,  yes." 

"  I  believe  it  is  not  limited  in  amount  ?" 

"  No,  sir.  I  hope  I  have  not  drawn  more  than 
you  thought  proper." 

"  By  no  means,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  left  it  alto- 
gether with  Rufus.  I  wanted  you  to  have  enough. 
How  long  do  you  mean  to  stay  in  Montvale  ?" 

Roland  was  surprised  at  the  question,  and  wished 
he  knew  how  best  to  answer  it.  He  stole  a  sidelong 
glance  at  his  uncle,  in  hopes  to  find  some  guide  in 
his  expression,  but  that  gentleman  was  looking 
vacantly  at  the  carpet. 

"  I  do  not  know,  exactly,"  he  replied,  at  last. 
"  Have  you  any  suggestions  ?"  he  asked,  desperately. 

"N-o,"said  Mr.  Linnette.  And  here  the  conver- 
sation changed  to  other  subjects  and  the  matter  was 
not  taken  up  again. 

Willard  Linnette  had  never  mentioned,  in  any  of 
his  letters  to  Roland,  that  he  had  changed  house- 
keepers. The  )oung  man  knew  nothing  of  the  child 
who  had  gone  so  far  toward  taking  his  place  in  his 
uncle's  house  and  heart.  He  must  know  it  at  some 
time,  but  the  one  most  interested  wanted  to  postpone 
the  day  as  late  as  possible. 

Why  should  not  everything  have  been  revealed  at 
once  ?  What  reason  was  there  for  this  secrecy,  so 
foreign  to  everything  else  in  the  old  man's  character  ? 

Roland  was  now  an  experienced  man.  Eva  was 
seventeen  ;  quite  a  woman.  Perhaps  that  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  it. 


MISS   OIDDIXG8    IS   SHOCKED. 


CHAPTER  V. 

MISS   GIDDINGS   IS    SHOCKED. 

Roland's  recollections  of  the  character  of  Mr. 
Hanson,  who  "ran"  the  hotel  at  Montvale  were 
entirely  correct.  The  house  over  which  he  presided, 
like  almost  everything  else  in  Montvale,  was  owned 
by  Willard  Linnette.  As  Roland  was  the  favor- 
ite relation  and  probable  heir  of  his  uncle,  Hanson 
was  glad  to  see  him,  and  had  no  idea  of  letting  any- 
thing interfere  with  his  contentment.  The  day 
before  his  arrival  the  landlord  spoke  to  each  of  the 
employes  in  turn,  bidding  them  make  every  effort  to 
please  the  young  gentleman  who  was  to  come. 

"  He  has  travelled  a  great  deal,"  he  said,  oracu- 
larly, "  and  may  appear  unreasonable  in  some  things  ; 
but  there  is  to  be  just  one  rule  for  him.  Whatever 
he  asks  for  he  must  have." 

To  this  Mr.  Hanson  added  a  mild  hint  that  it 
would  be  very  disastrous  for  any  particular  servant 
with  whom  Mr.  Roland  came  in  collision  ;  and  an 
air  of  trepidation,  not  to  say  awe,  permeated  the 
entire  household  as  the  critical  day  drew  near. 

The  number  of  domestics  was  naturally  small,  as 
the  establishment  seldom  had  a  dozen  transient  guests 
at  one  time.  There  was  a  female  cook,  who  never 
came  into  any  portion  of  the  house  where  the  guests 
would  be  likely  to  encounter  her,  but  who  played  a 


50  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

most  important  part,  for  all  that,  in  the  economy  of 
the  concern.  There  was  a  middle-aged  woman  who 
officiated  in  the  double  capacity  of  chief  chamber- 
maid and  head  table  waitress  ;  a  scullery  maid  ;  a 
boy  who  did  odd  jobs  ;  and  one  or  two  men  whose 
duties  were  mainly  at  the  stable. 

To  this  retinue  had  recently  been  added  the 
pretty  girl  whom  Roland  met  on  his  way  from 
the  counting  room,  on  the  morning  when  he  first 
saw  young  Dalton.  She  was  under  general  instruc- 
tions to  be  ready  for  any  emergency,  and,  never 
having  had  the  least  experience  in  a  hotel,  was  con- 
siderably exercised  over  the  prospect.  The  chief 
chambermaid  and  head  waitress,  whose  name  was 
Giddings,  partly  quieted  the  fears  of  this  young 
damsel  in  relation  to  Mr.  Roland,  by  saying  that  she 
(the  Giddings)  would  answer  all  of  his  bells  in  per- 
son, and  that  it  was  doubtful  if  she  (the  pretty  girl) 
would  even  so  much  as  get  a  glimpse  of  him. 

Roland  made  up  his  mind,  as  he  was  to  be  forced 
to  remain  for  some  time  in  Montvale,  that  he  would 
get  all  the  fun  possible  out  of  his  residence  at  the 
hotel.  Before  he  had  been  in  the  house  an  hour  he 
had  the  cordial  ill-will  of  every  person  with  whom 
he  came  in  contact,  except  the  landlord,  who  could 
not  afford  to  harbor  such  a  feeling  against  a  guest 
of  his  description. 

Nothing  done  in  anticipation  of  his  arrival  suited 
him  in  the  least. 

"These  are  your  rooms,  sir,"  said  the  smiling 
Miss  Giddings,  when  she  had  piloted  him  up  the 
stairs. 


MISS    GIDDINGS    13    SHOCKED.  51 

I  say  the  "  smiling  "  Miss  Giddings,  but  it  was 
the  last  smile  that  fair  creature  wore  for  many  days. 

"  Rooms  !"  echoed  the  heir  of  Montvale.  "  Rooms! 
These  are  not  rooms!  they  are  ovens!  No  human 
being  could  exist  for  five  minutes  in  this  atmos- 
phere. Throw  open  those  windows,  every  one  of 
them — or  knock  them  out,  or  something  !" 

"  We  thought — "  began  the  chambermaid. 

"That  I  was  a  salamander?  Very  likely;  but  I 
am  not !  Unhappily  I  have  lungs,  which  are  set  in 
motion  by  supplies  of  oxygen."  He  walked  to  the 
window  as  soon  as  it  was  opened,  and  took  in  a  deep 
breath  of  the  frosty  air.  "  What  in  Heaven's  name 
are  these  things  ?"  he  continued,  in  allusion  to  the 
lace  curtains  that  had  been  arranged  with  great  care 
across  the  upper  panes.  "  Pull  them  down — quick  ! 
I  want  to  look  out  without  sitting  on  a  stool." 
Then  he  glanced  around  the  walls,  and  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  horror.  "What  are  those  dreadful 
things  in  frames  !  Not  pictures  !  Don't  tell  me 
that !  Whatever  they  are,  have  them  removed  im- 
mediately. I  would  not  sleep  in  the  same  room 
with  them  for  a  fortune  !" 

Miss  Giddings,  much  agitated  by  this  avalanche, 
gladly  seized  the  opportunity  to  escape  to  the  lower 
floor  and  inform  the  landlord  of  the  strange  requests 
which  his  new  guest  had  made.  Mr.  Hanson 
promptly  called  William  and  Patsey,  two  of  his  male 
retainers,  and  ordered  them  to  go  to  Roland's  room 
and  execute  as  rapidly  as  possible  every  order  that 
he  gave. 

"  Her*  !     Take  these  off  first/  called  Roland  to  the 


52  LOVE   AT  SErENTT. 

advance  guard,  as  the  reinforced  detachment  ap- 
peared in  sight.  He  tossed  toward  them  several  bed 
coverings  known  in  the  vernacular  as  "  comfort- 
ables." "  What  under  the  blessed  sun  do  you  call 
those  ?  They  would  asphyxiate  a  man  in  about 
thirty  seconds." 

Miss  Giddings  thought  it  time  to  make  a  stand. 

"  Why,  sir,  they  are  the  very  best  we  have  in  the 
house.  They  were  bought  on  purpose  for  your 
room." 

"  They  might  do  for  mats,"  retorted  Mr.  Roland, 
"but  they  are  totally  unfit  for  any  other  purpose. 
Have  you  no  woolen  blankets  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  but — " 

"  Then  get  them.  Lug  out  that  trash  !"  he  added, 
to  the  man,  alluding  to  the  pictures.  "  And  what  is 
this  ?  A.  stove,  as  I'm  alive  !  A  stove,  with  a  red  hot 
fire  in  it,  and  an  unused  fire-place  !  Drop  those 
chromos  and  take  this  stove  out  first.  No  wonder  I 
was  suffocating  !" 

William,  the  hostler,  who  had  taken  up  several 
articles  in  succession  and  let  them  fall  again,  started 
for  the  stove,  as  if  with  the  intention  of  removing  it 
forthwith.  But  Miss  Giddings  sprang  toward  him 
with  a  scream,  declaring  that  the  fire  must  be  extin- 
guished. 

"  Go  down  and  get  some  kindlings,  Patsey,"  she 
said  to  the  boy,  "and  start  a  blaze  in  the  fireplace. 
We  shall  have  to  wait  till  the  stove  is  cooler,  before 
removing  it,"  she  remarked  to  Roland,  in  a  shaking 
voice. 


MI8S    GIDDINGS    18   SHOCKED.  53 

fhe  traveller  felt  a  keen  delight  in  the  commotion 
ne  was  causing. 

"There  is  kindling  enough  here,"  he  said,  pointing 
to  the  pictures  that  lay  in  a  heap  on  the  floor. 
"Those  frames  would  burn,  I  should  think." 

The  woman  felt  compelled  to  enter  a  feeble  pro- 
test to  this  proposition. 

"  Patsey  will  be  here  soon  with  plenty  of  better 
stuff,"  she  ventured. 

"  But  they  must  be  burned — some  time  /"  replied 
Roland. 

"  The  last  gentleman  who  had  these  rooms,"  re- 
torted Miss  Giddings,  rallying  under  the  impression 
that  the  entire  house  was  being  assailed,  "  never  said 
a  word  against  them.  He  was  a  sick  man,  too,  and 
had  to  lie  here  all  day,  with  nothing  else  to  look  at." 

Roland  stared  at  her  with  counterfeited  alarm. 

"Where  am  I?"  he  demanded.  "Is  this  a  hos- 
pital ?  I  thought  it  was  a  hotel.  He  was  sick,  was 
he  ?  He  died,  I'll  bet  a  guinea.  And  he  lay  there — 
in  that  bed — day  after  day — looking  at  those  pic- 
tures !  And  they  called  doctors,  and  prescribed  for 
him,  no  one  suspecting  the  dreadful  cause  that  was 
gradually  sapping  the  foundations  of  his  existence  !" 
His  voice  began  to  tremble.  "  Did  he  have  this 
stove,  too  ?" 

The  woman's  teeth  chattered. 

*'  Yes,  sir — in  the  fall.  We  put  it  up  when  it 
began  to  grow  cold." 

Roland  turned  away  and  buried  his  face  in  his 
handkerchief. 


54  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

"  Poor  fellow  !  Poor  fellow  !"  he  murmureu, 
wiping  his  eyes. 

Patsey  came  up  with  the  kindling.  The  fire  in  the 
stove  was  subdued  sufficiently  to  admit  of  the  re- 
moval of  that  obnoxious  piece  of  furniture.  Blank- 
ets were  substituted  for  the  heavy  "  comfortables." 
The  lambrequins  that  had  been  carefully  arranged 
to  hide  the  magnificent  view  were  taken  down.  And 
then  Miss  Giddings  ventured  to  inquire  humbly  if 
that  was  all  he  wanted. 

"All!"  echoed  Roland,  looking  at  the  woman  as 
if  about  to  break  into  another  rage.  It  seemed  as  if 
he  could  never  reply  to  one  of  her  questions  without 
repeating  something  she  had  said.  "  No,  it  is  not 
all!  f  It  is  not  half  7  Doesn't  it  occur  to  you  that  a 
man  who  had  his  dinner  two  hundred  miles  from 
here  may  want  something  in  the  way  of  food  ?" 

"  I  meant  all  in  the  room,"  faltered  the  chamber- 
maid, her  heart  ready  to  burst.  She  had  never 
imagined  that  anyone  would  address  her  in  this 
manner  before  William  and  Patsey,  who  had  hitherto 
regarded  her  as  a  person  of  superior  position. 

"  Then  you  should  have  said  so.  What  have  you 
in  the  house  that  is  fit  for  a  Christian  to  eat  ?" 

"  Anything  you  like  to  order,  sir." 

"But  I  shall  not  'order,  sir  !'  I  am  not  going  to 
spend  my  time  attending  to  your  business.  You  can 
bring  me  what  you  think  best.  Only,"  he  paused 
and  looked  more  darkly  than  ever  at  his  attendant, 
"if  it  should  happen  to  be  a  beefsteak,  and  it 
was  cooked  more  than  one  minute  on  each  side,  on 
a  broiler,  over  coals,  I  would  not  touch  it  !  If  it 


HISS    GIDDING8   IS   SHOCKED.  55 

was  fried  in  a  spider,  as  I  have  known  your  country- 
men to  cook  it,  I  would  sue  the  landlord  of  this 
house  for  assault  and  battery,  and  I  would  get  judg- 
ment, too  !  If  there  is  coffee — and  I  don't  say  there 
will  be — it  must  come  up  here  half  cream,  and  very 
hot,  or  it  will  go  down  again  !  If  there  are  fried 
potatoes,  they  will  have  to  be  brown,  but  not  burned, 
mind  you  !  And  if  anyone  should  offer  me/*V — not 
merely  to-night,  but  at  any  time  during  my  stay — 
there  would  be  blood  spilled  !  You  may  go." 

Miss  Giddings  delivered  this  message,  shorn  of  its 
verbiage,  to  the  cook,  and  then  went  to  the  rear 
door  of  the  kitchen  for  air.  She  was  actually  dizzy 
from  the  shock  to  her  feelings  at  her  strange  recep- 
tion. As  soon  as  she  was  out  of  the  room  young 
Linnette  threw  himself  into  one  of  the  easy  chairs, 
the  only  articles  of  furniture  present  of  which  he 
fully  approved,  and  laughed  consumedly. 

"Idiots!"  he  muttered.  "  Talk  about  your  cool- 
ies, your  Bengalese  !  It  takes  a  free-born  American 
to  bow  before  the  power  of  gold.  As  long  as  I 
have  plenty  of  money  to  salve  over  the  wounds  to 
their  sentiments  I  can  wipe  my  feet  on  any  of  them. 
There  is  not  a  femme  de  chambre  in  Europe  who 
would  endure  half  the  insolence  I  gave  that  woman. 
I  shall  be  ashamed  of  my  country,  if  Hanson  does 
not  come  up  here  and  toss  me  out  of  the  window." 

The  cook,  who  had  heard  all  that  William  and 
Patsey  could  tell  her  of  what  had  passed  upstairs, 
was  in  a  nervous  state  lest  the  viands  she  was  pre- 
paring should  be  returned  as  unsatisfactory  ;  but 
Roland  had  exhausted,  for  the  moment,  his  love  of 


56  LOTS   AT 

fun,  and  ate  his  supper,  which  was  really  very  good, 
without  comment.  When  it  was  finished  he  walked 
the  piazza,  to  watch  the  stars  which  shone  brightly 
over  the  still  mountain  and  valley,  and  in  the  pleas- 
ure of  the  contemplation  forgot  his  loneliness  foi 
the  time. 

His  uncle  was  away  on  business  when  he  arrived 
at  Montvale,  but  returned  within  a  day  or  two  and 
came  promptly  to  the  hotel.  Roland  noticed,  as  he 
had  in  the  interview  at  New  York,  that  there  was 
something  for  which  he  could  not  account  in  the 
manner  of  this  relation.  He  felt  that  he  had  in 
some  unknown  way  displeased  him,  and  expected, 
every  time  Mr.  Linnette  opened  his  mouth,  to  learn 
the  cause  of  his  changed  attitude.  He  feared  that 
he  had  delayed  too  long  to  suit  his  uncle's  ideas  in 
deciding  what  to  adopt  as  a  profession  ;  but  he  had 
become  so  used  to  doing  nothing  that  he  did  not 
like  the  thought  of  giving  it  up. 

Though  the  conversation  lasted  for  more  than  an 
hour,  however,  it  bore  no  reference  to  this  subject. 
It  ran  backward  and  forward  at  random  among 
things  native  and  foreign,  and  not  a  word  was  spoken 
conveying  the  least  hint  that  anything  disagreeable 
was  in  mind. 

Roland  could  not  help  wondering  whether  he  had 
alarmed  himself  unnecessarily.  Could  it  be  that  his 
busy  uncle  was  willing  he  should  lead  a  life  of  entire 
idleness  ? 

"I  hope  they  make  things  agreeable  for  you  here,'' 
said  Mr.  Linnette,  after  one  of  his  long  pauses. 

"  Quite   so,"  responded    Roland.     "  Having  lired 


MISS    GIDDINOS   IS   SHOCKED.  57 

In  countries  where  the  manners  are  so  entirely  dif- 
ferent, things  seem  a  little  odd  at  first,  but  Hanson 
is  doing  the  best  he  can." 

The  elder  man  seemed  relieved  at  the  answer. 

"  I  live  so  plainly  myself,"  said  he,  "  that  I  fear 
you  would  not  be  comfortable  at  my  house.  How- 
ever, some  day  before  you  go,  if  you  would  like  to 
come  for  a  dinner,  I — I  could  arrange  it.  That  is, 
of  course,  with  time  for  preparation." 

Roland  laughed  lightly. 

"  That  sounds  awfully  formal,"  said  he.  "  I  would 
be  glad  to  take  pot-luck  with  you,  but  the  hotel  is 
just  as  well.  When  you  get  a  chance  you  might 
come  in  and  dine  with  me,  and  save  all  the 
trouble." 

"  I  will  do  that,  then,"  responded  the  other,  draw- 
ing a  long  breath.  "  On  the  whole,  it  would  be 
better.  Yes,"  he  added,  musingly,  "  it  would  be 
much  better." 

Although  Mr.  Linnette  had  dined  twice  with  his 
nephew  after  this,  he  had  said  nothing  in  relation  to 
the  dreaded  subject  up  to  the  time  when  he  sent  the 
pretty  waitress  to  call  him,  as  detailed  in  the  first 
chapter  of  this  story. 


58  LOTS    AT   SEVENTY. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"I'M    SURE    I    CAN    TRUST    YOU." 

Mr.  Linnette  had  nothing  of  special  moment  to 
communicate  to  his  nephew  beyond  the  message 
presaged  in  the  words  of  Miss  Arline.  A  matter 
connected  with  his  business  had  suddenly  occurred 
which  made  it  necessary  for  him  to  take  a  journey 
that  might  occupy  a  fortnight  or  more.  He  only 
wished  to  say  good-by  to  Roland  and  to  inquire 
whether  he  would  probably  find  him  at  Montvale  on 
his  return. 

Had  this  question  been  asked  an  hour  sooner — at 
any  time,  in  fact,  before  he  met  the  charming  girl — 
the  young  man  would  have  answered  without  hesi- 
tation that  he  would  spend  the  time  of  his  uncle's 
absence  by  taking  a  trip  to  New  York.  He  cordially 
disliked  Montvale,  and  remained  merely  from 
motives  of  policy.  Nothing  but  his  interest  in  the 
face  he  had  just  seen  would  have  kept  him  there 
over  night.  But,  to  such  a  man,  this  reason  was 
amply  sufficient.  He  had  no  idea  of  leaving  a  vil- 
lage containing  such  a  worthy  object  of  attention, 
and  he  told  Mr.  Linnette  he  thought  he  would  stay 
where  he  was  for  the  present. 

"  You  arc  still  satisfied  with  the  hotel  ?"  asked  the 
uncle. 


"I'M   flUBE    I   CAN   TRUST   YOU."  5d 

"Quite,"  replied  Roland,  with  the  pretty  girl  in 
his  mind. 

"  There  would  be  nothing  for  you  to  do  at  the 
house,"  continued  Mr.  Linnette,  reflectively.  *'  It  is 
a  dull  place.  I  have  locked  up  most  of  the  rooms 
and  taken  the  keys."  He  exhibited  a  bunch  as  he 
spoke.  Then  he  noticed  Mr.  Hanson  crossing  the 
yard,  and  tapped  on  the  window,  signalling  him  to 
enter.  "  Do  your  best  to  entertain  my  nephew,"  he 
said  to  the  landlord,  when  he  appeared.  "  He  has 
travelled  in  lands  where  every  comfort  is  given  to 
the  stranger,  almost  as  a  matter  of  religion.  He 
must  not  find  his  native  country  less  hospitable." 

Hanson  responded  that  he  hoped  he  had  already 
done  what  was  required  of  him,  to  which  Roland 
answered  that  he  had  no  fault  to  find.  Mr.  Linnette 
then  shook  his  nephew's  hand  cordially — not  as 
warmly  as  he  had  done  when  the  boy  started  on  his 
foreign  journey,  but  still  kindly  enough.  And  get- 
ting into  the  sleigh  which  his  man  had  in  waiting  he 
was  driven  towards  the  railway  station. 

No  sooner  was  the  vehicle  out  of  sight  than 
Roland  turned  upon  Mr.  Hanson  with  a  savage  air. 

"  May  Allah  forgive  me  the  lie  1  told  to  that  good 
man  !"  he  cried.  "  I  would  not  for  the  world  let 
him  know  the  outrageous  way  that  you  have  treated 
me.  You  know  what  I  mean,  you  rascal  !  Why 
have  you  allowed  me  to  be  slowly  tortured  to  death 
by  that  Giddings,  when  you  had  all  the  time  under 
your  roof  the  charmingest  girl  in  the  country, 
carefully  kept  out  of  my  sight  and  hearing?" 

The  landlord  began  to  expostulate. 


60  10VE    AT   SEVENTY. 

"I  did  not  know—" 

"  Don't  prevaricate !  You  can't  do  it  well 
enough." 

"  But,  really,  Mr.  Roland,"  stammered  Hanson, 
"I  am  quite  innocent  of  any  wrong  intention.  Miss 
Giddings  is  experienced  in  waiting  upon  people, 
while  the  other  has  never  before  worked  in  a  hotel. 
I  certainly  meant  to  give  you  the  best  one." 

The  young  gentleman  gazed  at  his  companion 
with  a  comic  look  of  contempt. 

"  The  best  one  !"  he  repeated,  as  was  his  wont. 
"  Experienced  !  I  should  say  so  !  She  must  have 
had  half  a  century,  at  least.  Don't  let  her  answer 
my  bell  again,  if  you  want  me  to  stay  another  day 
under  your  roof.  Either  expect  me  to  take  the 
evening  train,  or  give  orders  that  no  one  but  Miss 
Maud  is  to  respond  to  calls  from  Nos.  9  and  10." 

The  landlord  replied  that  he  would  certainly  do 
so,  if  that  was  the  wish  of  his  guest. 

"  Miss  Arline  is  a  nice  girl,  I  have  no  doubt,"  he 
added.  "  Her  parents  died  some  years  ago,  and 
Maud  was  left  to  the  care  of  a  guardian,  who  seems 
to  have  turned  her  out  as  soon  as  her  money  was 
gone.  I  agreed  to  let  her  board  here  this  winter, 
though  I  really  did  not  need  her,  and — " 

But  his  guest  had  left  him  abruptly.  Roland  lost 
all  patience  at  the  story.  He  went  to  his  rooms  and 
for  the  next  hour  mused  upon  the  fate  that  had 
thrown  such  a  lovely  creature  upon  the  awfully  cold 
mercies  of  the  world. 

His  breakfast  was  invariably  brought  to  his  cham- 
ber. The  other  meals  he  usually  took  in  the  public 


"fM   SURE   I   CAN  TRUST  TOUT*  61 

dining-room.  To-day  he  decided  to  have  his  dinner 
brought  up,  and  rang  the  bell  for  that  purpose.  As 
he  stood  with  his  hand  on  the  rope  visions  of  the 
sweet  face  which  would  respond  to  his  "Come  in," 
filled  his  mind.  He  heard  in  imagination  the  little 
feet  of  his  divinity  ascending  the  stairs,  and  the 
dulcet  voice  inquiring,  "  What  did  you  wish,  sir  ?" 
But  the  knock  revealed  quite  a  different  order  of 
person  ;  none  other,  in  fact,  than  Miss  Sarah  Gid- 
dings. 

Roland's  surprise  and  disappointment  were  suffic- 
ient to  cause  him  to  utter  a  vigorous  exclamation, 
not  indicative  of  the  utmost  serenity  of  mind. 

"Who  sent  (or  you  ?"  he  cried,  somewhat  testilv 

"I  thought  you  rang,  sir." 

"  Did  you  ?  Well,  for  once  you  were  right.  I 
did  ring.  I  rang  for  Miss  Arline.  And  remember, 
hereafter,  whenever  I  ring,  it  is  for  the  same  per- 
son, and  never,  under  any  circumstances,  for  you  /" 

Miss  Giddings  did  not  intend  to  abandon  the 
field  so  easily. 

"  She  is  busy  just  now,  sir,  in  another  part  of  the 
house.  Won't  I  do  just  as  well  ?" 

The  young  man  turned  from  the  window,  to 
which  he  had  gone,  and  surveyed  the  questioner  dis- 
criminatingly. 

"Won't— you — do— just — as^-well  ?"  he  repeated. 
"  I  should  say  not !  Let  me  ask  you  candidly  if  you 
call  that  a  sensible  inquiry?" 

The  woman  evinced  signs  of  a  lachrymose  dispo- 
sition. 


62  LOVE    AT    SEVENTY. 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  what  you've  got  against  me, 
sir.  I've  tried  in  every  way  to  suit  you." 

"  Well,  don't  try  any  more,"  he  answered,  sharply. 
Then,  as  she  showed  no  intention  of  leaving,  he 
added,  "The  doctor  has  positively  forbidden  me  to 
get  excited,  and  you  must  not  irritate  me.  It  can't 
possibly  do  you  any  good  to  sweep  my  room  and 
make  my  bed.  I  shall  give  you  the  same  amount — 
in  fact,  much  more — if  you  will  kindly  keep  away. 
Here,"  he  handed  her  a  bank  bill  as  he  spoke,  "  is 
something  on  account.  I  will  send  you  the  same 
sum  each  week  if  you  will  never  present  yourself 
before  my  vision." 

Miss  Giddings  took  the  money,  but  it  did  not  make 
her  happy.  She  still  lingered. 

"  Will  you  find  Miss  Arline  and  request  her  to 
come  here,"  demanded  Roland,  "  or  will  you  not  ?  I 
had  an  appetite  and  it  is  disappearing.  Shall  I  have 
to  go  down  and  see  the  proprietor  ?" 

"  I  will  go  at  once,"  replied  the  woman,  sniffing 
"  Only — if  she  does  not  suit  you — she  is  so  inexperi' 
enced — you  can  let  me  know." 

He  opened  the  door  and  held  it  in  the  attitude  of 
one  who  wishes  to  facilitate  the  departure  of  his  guest. 

"  Yes,  I  can"  he  repeated.  "  But  that  is  quite 
different  from  saying  that  I  shall.  Now,  good- 
morning,  Miss  Giddings.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  say 
'  good-by,'  as  we  may  never  meet  again.  If  you 
consult  my  wishes — and  your  own  interest — it  will 
be  a  permanent  farewell.  Miss  Arline,  if  you  please, 
without  unnecessary  delay." 

He  had  time  to  throw  himself  into  a  chair  and 


"  I'M    8UEE    I    CAN    TJBUST   YOU."  63 

laugh  heartily  at  what  he  considered  his  excellent 
joke  before  a  second  knock  sounded. 

"  Come  in  !"  he  called,  somewhat  roughly. 

He  did  not  intend  to  make  love  to  Maud  and 
frighten  her  again  that  day.  He  had  gone  farther 
in  that  direction  when  they  met  in  the  road  than  he 
thought  wise,  on  mature  reflection. 

He  inquired  what  there  was  for  dinner  and  gave 
his  order,  without  raising  his  eyes  from  a  newspaper 
which  he  had  hastily  caught  up. 

"  You  may  spread  the  table  here,  if  you  please," 
he  added,  as  he  heard  her  leaving  the  chamber. 

Roland  lay  back  in  his  chair  by  the  window,  and 
placed  his  feet  cosily  on  an  ottoman.  He  was  con- 
tent to  inhale  the  fragrance  of  the  air  her  presence 
had  perfumed.  His  appetite  had  vanished.  Except 
as  an  excuse  to  bring  her  to  him  he  would  have 
eaten  nothing.  He  gave  himself  up  to  dreaming. 

Presently  the  girl  returned  with  a  table-cloth, 
napkins  and  dishes.  She  rapped  again  at  the  door, 
and  he  responded  that  she  might  enter,  but  still  he 
did  not  turn  his  eyes  toward  her.  She  set  the  tray 
on  the  table  and  drew  that  article  of  furniture  into 
the  centre  of  the  apartment.  Then  she  hesitated  a 
moment,  undecided  what  to  do  next.  She  was,  in 
truth,  wholly  unused  to  making  preparations  of  this 
kind  without  assistance,  and  not  a  little  confused  at 
being  alone  with  a  young  gentleman  of  the  disposi- 
tion which  she  had  found  in  this  one. 

She  shot  a  mute  glance  of  appeal  for  information 
in  his  direction,  but  he  was  silent  as  a  stone,  appar- 
ently wholly  engrossed  with  his  newspaper.  It  was 


64:  LOTE    AT  SEVENTY. 

clear  that  she  must  remove  the  tray  from  the  table 
before  she  could  lay  the  cloth,  and  there  was  no 
stand  in  the  room  upon  which  she  could  place  it. 
Recollecting  at  last  that  such  an  article  was  sure  to 
be  found  in  the  bedroom  adjoining,  she  went  thither 
to  get  it,  deeming  this  preferable  to  asking  any 
questions  of  the  sphinx  into  which  Mr.  Roland  had 
suddenly  changed. 

Maud  brought  out  the  stand,  first  removing  from 
it  various  articles  of  gentlemen's  attire,  which  she 
put,  for  want  of  a  better  place,  upon  the  bed.  Then 
she  carried  the  tray  to  it  and  proceeded  to  set  the 
table. 

Although  the  young  man  did  not  look  up  once  he 
felt  every  thrill  of  nervousness  which  his  waitress 
experienced.  His  highly  sensitive  organization  re- 
sponded to  hers,  like  the  strings  of  a  harp  to  the 
touch  of  a  performer.  When  she  left  the  room  to  go 
for  the  viands  he  inspected  her  preparations.  A 
smile  stole  over  his  countenance  as  he  saw  that  the 
cloth  was  uneven,  the  dishes  laid  irregularly  and  the 
table  quite  out  of  the  place  where  the  careful  Miss 
Giddings  had  always  put  it.  Fastidious  to  a  degree, 
he  had  insisted  upon  the  utmost  particularity  in 
these  things,  and  had  given  his  former  attendant 
many  a  pang  by  the  sarcastic  remarks  with  which  he 
punctuated  hi?  directions. 

Now  all  was  quite  different ;  but  had  the  meal 
been  spread  on  the  carpet  he  would  hardly  have 
cared.  The  food  and  the  manner  in  which  it  was 
served  were  secondary  considerations.  It  was  the 
nymph  who  brought  it  that  absorbed  his  attention. 


al'M   8UB1  I  CAN  TBTJiT  YOU.'*  65 

Miss  Arline  and  the  dinner  soon  made  their  appear- 
ance. When  all  was  ready  and  the  girl  mustered 
courage  to  inform  him  of  that  fact  he  rose  slowly 
and  took  his  seat  at  the  table.  He  was  obliged  to 
make  a  feint  of  eating,  because  she  was  watching 
him.  After  sipping  his  soup  he  drew  the  cork  of  a 
bottle  of  claret  and  filled  a  glass  absently.  But  his 
appetite  for  food  would  not  come,  and  presently  he 
pushed  the  dishes  away. 

"  You  may  take  them,"  he  said.  "  I  am  not 
hungry." 

"  Is  there  anything  else  that  I  can  get  you,  sir  ?" 

"  Nothing,  thank  you." 

As  he  did  not  rise  she  asked  him  presently  if  she 
should  clear  the  table  ;  and  he  responded  in  the 
affirmative,  taking  up  the  newspaper  he  had  laid 
down,  and  pretending  again  to  become  deeply  inter- 
ested in  it.  She  gathered  up  the  dishes,  passing 
around  him,  as  her  duties  made  it  necessary.  He 
was  oppressed  by  her  presence,  and  felt  that  he  could 
not  bear  it  much  longer.  One  may  admire  the  per- 
fume of  roses,  and  yet  feel  a  sense  of  suffocation 
when  shut  up  in  a  room  that  is  full  of  them. 

Roland  Linnette  had  learned  to  hate  the  world 
that  had  used  him  so  well,  long  before  this  day. 
But  at  this  moment  he  hated  it  worse  than  ever. 
Why,  he  demanded  of  himself,  should  so  many 
ugly-featured  and  ugly-formed  women  ride  in  their 
carriages,  while  an  houri  like  this  served,  a  common 
waitress,  in  a  common  hotel.  He  remembered  the 
white-capped  maids  of  England,  rosy  with  health, 
bright  of  eye  and  round  of  limb,  putting  to  shame 


66  LOVE    AT   SBVBNTT. 

their  fat  and  pudgy  mistresses.  He  could  recall  a 
hundred  houses  of  wealth  in  which  he  had  been 
made  welcome  on  the  Continent,  where  the  last  vis- 
ion of  beauty  disappeared  with  the  hall-maid.  He 
had  seen  the  bonnes  at  Paris  and  at  Vienna,  grouped 
prettily  in  the  parks  with  their  infantile  charges, 
and  thought  how  a  better  civilization  would  have 
made  them  the  mothers  of  the  little  creatures,  who 
could  never  know  such  grace  of  face  and  figure  as 
their  temporary  slaves  possessed. 

Then  his  thoughts  shifted  again,  and  took  in  the 
workmen  at  his  uncle's,  every  one  of  them  better 
men  than  he,  idling  away  his  existence  while  they 
supplied  him  with  the  abundance  of  which  they 
robbed  themselves. 

Practically  Roland  was  an  aristocrat,  theoretically 
he  was  an  anarchist. 

"  I  do  a  thousand  things  which  I  never  will  argue 
are  right,"  was  one  of  his  favorite  sayings. 

Maud  cleared  away  the  dishes,  put  the  table  and 
stand  where  she  had  found  them,  and  quietly  left 
the  room.  He  said  no  more  to  her,  and  she  began 
to  think  he  would  prove  a  less  disagreeable 
person  to  wait  on  than  she  had  feared.  If  she  had 
known  all  that  passed  in  his  mind  she  might  have 
had  less  cause  for  congratulation. 

An  hour  later  Roland  sauntered  into  the  hotel 
office,  and  found  the  proprietor  at  his  accounts. 

"  Everything  is  satisfactory,  now,  I  hope  ?"  re- 
marked Mr.  Hanson,  with  the  brand  of  smile  which 
we  give  to  those  from  whom  we  earn  our  livelihood. 
U  has  improved,  at  least,"  was  the  response. 


"I'M   SURE   I   CAN   TBUST   YOU."  67 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  price  you  get  for  my 
board  ?  Is  it  large  enough  ?" 

The  landlord,  who  had  charged  this  guest  his  very 
highest  rate,  was  somewhat  disturbed  at  the  ques- 
tion. 

"  I  do  not  think  it  is,"  continued  the  young  man, 
before  the  other  could  frame  a  reply.  "I  want  a 
good  many  extras,  and  I  expect  to  see  them  in  the 
bill.  For  one  thing,  I  want  Miss  Arline  to  wait  upon 
no  one  else  while  I  am  here.  When  I  ring  for  her  I 
do  not  wish  to  hear  that  she  is  engaged  in  other 
duties.  Her  time  must  be  mine  exclusively.  Do 
you  understand  ?" 

Mr.  Hanson  bowed  a  slow  assent. 

"It  shall  be  as  you  desire.  But  you  will  not  for- 
get, I  hope,  that  I  am  careful  of  the  reputation  of 
the  house,  and — " 

Roland  broke  in  upon  him  savagely,  in  the  midst 
of  his  sentence. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?"  he  demanded. 
"Your  statement  is  a  reflection  upon  the  character 
of  that  young  woman,  which  I  do  not  believe  you 
have  the  slightest  cause  to  make  !" 

"  I  surely  did  not  so  intend  it,"  stammered  the 
landlord,  in  great  confusion,  terrified  lest  he  had 
angered  his  guest  beyond  repair.  "  On  the  con- 
trary, I  am  positive  she  is  innocent,  and  I  should  not 
like—" 

He  paused  of  his  own  accord  this  time,  uncertain 
how  to  end  the  sentence  he  had  begun. 

"  Oh,  go  on  !    go  on  !"    cried  Roland.     "  Finish  I" 


68  LOVE  AT  SEVENTY. 

"I  meant  nothing,"  Mr.  Hanson  hastened  to  say. 
"  I'm  sure  I  can  trust  you." 

"  You  can  '  trust  "me!"  echoed  Roland.  "Who 
the  devil  are  you,  to  trust  anyone  ?  I  shall  leave  the 
house  to-night !" 

"  Don't  do  that,  sir,"  expostulated  the  landlord, 
greatly  distressed  at  the  prospect.  "You  can  do 
what  you  like,  sir  ;  I  am  sure  it's  no  business  of 
mine." 

Roland  had  not  the  slightest  intention  of  leaving 
the  Montvale  House,  but  he  wanted  to  give  Hanson  a 
fright.  How  much  further  he  might  have  gone  in  this 
direction  can  only  be  surmised,  for  at  this  moment  a 
man  entered  the  office  hastily  and  inquired  for  young 
Mr.  Linnette.  On  being  told  that  the  individual  he 
sought  stood  before  him,  he  handed  Roland  one  of 
the  latter's  address  cards. 

"  A  young  fellow  was  found  in  the  snow,  by  the 
side  of  the  road,  several  miles  east  of  here,  an  hour 
ago,"  said  the  man,  "with  this  card  in  his  pocket. 
Some  of  us  thought  you  might  know  him,  and  I 
drove  over  to  tell  you." 

Mechanically  Roland  drew  out  some  money  and 
gave  it  to  the  messenger.  He  rightly  believed  that 
such  an  errand  had  been  prompted  by  expectations 
of  reward. 

"  Go  on,"  he  said. 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  can  tell  you  much.  He 
applied  at  a  factory  near  there  for  something  to  do, 
and  they  told  him  there  was  no  chance.  And  soon 
after  some  one  saw  him  lying  in  the  snow  and  took 


aI*M  SURE  I  OAK  TRUST  YOU."  it 

him  into  a  house.    Then  they  got  a  doctor,  and  he 

says  it's  an  even  case." 

Roland  looked  up,  much  startled. 

"You  don't  mean  that  he  thinks  it  dangerous  !" 

"Well,  that's  what  he  seemed  to  say,"  responded 
the  messenger.  "  Perhaps  it  ain't  so  bad,  but  that's 
the  way  he  talked." 

Roland  reflected  a  moment. 

"  Is  there  anything  to  prevent  your  going  back 
with  me,  to  show  me  the  house  ?"  he  asked.  "  That 
is,  of  course,  if  I  pay  you  for  your  trouble." 

"  I  don't  know's  there  is." 

"  Harness  up  a  double  sleigh  as  quick  as  you 
can  !"  said  Roland  to  Hanson,  forgetting  his  an- 
nounced intention  of  quitting  the  hotel.  "Let  Wil- 
liam go  with  me.  If  that  fellow  is  alive, — or  if  he's 
dead,  for  that  matter, — we  shall  bring  him  back 
with  us  !" 


70  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

OLD      TOM      HOBBS. 

The  most  privileged  character  at  Montvale,  aside 
from  its  principal  proprietor,  was  Tom  Hobbs, 
father  of  Rufus,  the  cashier.  He  had  long  been  a 
favorite  with  the  senior  Linnette,  on  account  of  a 
certain  bluff  quality  in  his  nature,  which  assorted  well 
with  the  latter's  own  disposition.  On  all  occasions 
Hobbs  was  a  welcome  guest  at  his  employer's 
mansion.  The  close  friendship  of  the  men  dated 
from  an  occasion  thirty  years  previous  to  the  open- 
ing of  this  tale,  when  Hobbs — then  in  charge  of  one 
of  the  minor  departments  of  the  works — made  so 
pronounced  a  stand  against  one  of  Mr.  Linnette's 
projects  that  he  was  discharged  in  anger  from  his 
position.  On  the  very  next  day  the  manufacturer 
repented  of  his  act.  He  sent  word  to  Hobbs  that  if 
he  would  apologize  for  the  language  he  had  used  he 
could  resume  his  place  ;  and  as  soon  as  the  foreman 
could  reach  the  office  he  was  there. 

"  Did  you  send  word  that  I  could  be  reinstated  if 
I  would  apologize  to  you  ?"  he  asked,  as  soon  as  he 
stepped  foot  in  the  counting  room. 

"  Why,  yes,"  was  the  pleasant  reply.  "  I  know  you 
were  excited  and  did  not  mean  what  you  said." 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  excited  now  ?"  inquired 
Hobbs,  in  his  ordinary  tone. 


OLD  TOM   HOBB8.  71 

"No,  Tom,"  responded  his  employer,  with  the 
utmost  affability. 

"  Have  you  any  doubt  that  I  shall  mean  what  I  say 
this  time  ?" 

"  No,  Tom." 

"Well,  I  shall  not  apologize,  or  anything  of  the 
sort?  I  came  here  to  tell  you  to  go  to  the  devil  !" 

The  employer  looked  at  the  speaker  with  conster- 
nation. He  had  never  heard  such  words  addressed 
to  a  man  who  was  worth  a  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
What  could  the  fellow  mean? 

"Do  you  imagine,"  continued  Hobbs,  "that  you 
are  any  better  than  when  you  worked  by  my  side 
over  in  Ashfield  for  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  a  day  ? 
Do  you  think  you  are  going  to  run  over  me  with 
your  high  talk  of  apologies?  I  am  as  good  a  man 
as  you  ever  dared  to  be,  and  I  will  see  you  in  hades," 
(only  he  used  the  old-fashioned  word)  "  before  I 
will  ever  cringe  to  you,  when  I  am  right  and  you  are 
wrong." 

He  turned  abruptly,  and  was  about  to  leave  the 
room,  when  Willard  Linnette  rose  and  stopped  him 
with  a  word. 

"  Tom." 

"  Well  r 

"  You'd  better  go  back  to  your  work,  Tom.  And 
about  that  matter,  perhaps  it's  as  you  say,  after  all.1' 

"  I  know  it's  as  I  say  !  There's  not  the  slightest 
doubt  about  it !" 

"  All  right,  Tom.  And — Tom.  You  were  speak- 
ing to  me  about  your  boy  the  other  day.  He's  a 
smart  little  fellow,  and  when  he  gets  old  enough  \ 


78  LOVE  AT  SEYEHTT. 

want  to  give  him  a  place  in  the  office.  Don't  forget 
it,  Tom/* 

"  No,"  replied  Hobbs,  without  so  much  as  a 
"  thank  you."  Then  he  asked,  as  if  nothing  had 
happened,  "  Do  you  want  anything  else,  for  I  have 
got  enough  to  do  down  to  the  works  !" 

"No.     That's  all,  Tom.    Good-day,  Tom." 

When  the  man  had  gone  the  employer  sat  for  a 
long  time  in  silence,  pondering  over  the  occurrence. 

"  It's  a  good  thing  this  happened,"  he  mused. 
"I've  been  piling  up  money  pretty  fast,  and  I'm 
afraid  I've  been  getting  into  the  habit  of  saying 
sharp  things  to  the  men,  just  because  I'm  a  little 
better  off  than  they  are.  Tom  was  right  about  the 
apology.  He  did  a  good  thing  to  recall  me  to  my- 
self. I  must  cultivate  Tom  Hobbs.  I  must  keep 
him  near  me,  where  he  can  act  as  a  brake  when  I 
get  to  going  too  fast  on  this  slippery  road  to  pros- 
perity. Getting  a  good  deal  of  money  in  a  hurry  is 
apt  to  make  a  man  domineering.  If  Tom  finds  me 
becoming  too  airy  he  will  certainly  take  me  down. 
Yes,  I  must  find  a  new  place  for  Tom  where  we  shall 
meet  oftener." 

Tom  Hobbs  was  promoted  gradually  until  he  be- 
came general  superintendent  of  the  entire  establish- 
ment. Next  to  Linnette,  or  in  any  of  his  temporary 
absences,  Hobbs'  authority  was  complete.  He  never 
changed  in  the  slightest  degree  the  character  shown 
in  the  incident  narrated.  He  would  always  express 
his  opinion  of  anything  in  the  business — or  out  of  it 
— as  freely  as  if  equal  owner  and  partner.  Nearly 
every  evening  he  went  to  his  employer's  mansion  and 


OLD  TOM   HOBB8.  7$ 

indulged  in  a  smoke  with  him,  a  game  of  chess,  or  a 
talk  on  various  matters,  as  the  whim  happened  to 
seize  the  old  cronies. 

Nothing  of  importance  came  into  Willard  Lin- 
nette's  life  that  Tom  Hobbs  did  not  know  about,  and 
in  relation  to  everything  he  expressed  his  views  at 
considerable  length.  He  was  consulted  when  the 
baby  Roland  was  brought  to  Montvale,  when  he 
was  sent  away  to  school,  and  when  he  was  given  his 
freedom  to  travel  around  the  world.  Mr.  Linnette 
did  not  necessarily  adopt  all  of  his  friend's  opinions, 
but  he  argued  each  matter  over  with  him,  in  a  quiet, 
companionable  style,  that  enabled  him  to  make  a 
better  decision  after  hearing  all  sides  of  the  case 
presented. 

Hobbs  advanced  the  strongest  opposition  to  the 
new  housekeeper  and  her  daughter,  when  he  learned 
of  their  arrival.  No  good  could  come  of  it,  he  said. 
What  Mr*  Linnette  needed  was  another  old  griffin 
like  Martin,  who  would  keep  him  in  order.  There 
was  always  danger  of  a  man's  falling  in  love  with  a 
woman  of  Mrs.  Warren's  youth  and  attractions. 

"  I  am  over  sixty  years  old,"  smiled  the  other, 
"and  I  think  I  am  quite  safe." 

" '  There's  no  fool  like  an  old  fool,'  "  quoted  Hobbs, 
wisely.  "  And  there  are  no  women  so  shrewd  to  get 
arounjd  a  man  as  these  young  widows." 

"Well,  let  us  suppose  the  very  worst  should  take 
place,  and  I  should  marry  Mrs.  Warren,"  said  Lin- 
nette, jocosely,  "  what  great  harm  would  result  ? 
You  are  a  married  man  yourself,  Tom.  It  seems 


74:  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

inconsistent  for  you   tc   argue  against  the  state  in 
which  you  are  living." 

Hobbs  pulled  at  his  long  pipe,  which  he  was 
smoking  at  the  time,  until  his  grizzled  head  was 
enveloped  in  a  cloud  that  well  nigh  hid  it  from 
view. 

"  If  a  woman  marries  you  now,  Will  Linnette,"  he 
said,  "  what  will  be  her  object  ?  Your  money,  and 
nothing  else ;  and  if  you  were  not  an  old  dunce 
you'd  know  it." 

The  optician  glanced  at  his  profile  in  a  mirror 
that  hung  opposite  to  where  he  sat,  and  stroked  his 
white  beard  complacently. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  Tom  ;  I  don't  know 
about  that,"  he  answered.  "There  is  a  good  deal 
to  me  yet,  besides  my  pocketbook." 

"  Pshaw  !"  ejaculated  his  companion,  contemptu- 
ously. "  It's  the  queerest  thing  that  you  old  men  " 
— Hobbs  was  at  least  five  years  the  elder  of  the  twain 
— "always  deceive  yourselves  in  that  way.  You 
are  forever  thinking  it  is  you  and  not  your  cash 
that  these  designing  creatures  are  after.  Now,  let 
us  imagine  this  young  widow — how  old  is  she,  should 
you  say  ?" 

"Oh,  thirty-five  or  six." 

"  Let  us  imagine  her  given  the  choice  between 
you,  with  your  fortune,  and  a  fellow  of  something 
like  her  own  age  who  hadn't  a  cent.  Why,  she'd 
marry  you,  of  course.  Let  us  imagine  the  case  re- 
versed, and  say  that  the  fellow  of  about  her  own 
age  had  the  money.  She'd  marry  him,  then,  as  sure 
as  you  live.  Let  us  imagine  once  more,  and  say 


OLD   TOM   HOBBS.  75 

that  you  and  the  other  fellow  had  an  equal  amount. 
Which  would  she  choose  in  that  case  ?" 

"  Why,  me,  of  course,"  laughed  Linnette,  who 
found  in  the  whole  matter  nothing  but  a  very  enter- 
taining joke. 

"  Not  by  a  damned  sight !"  exclaimed  Hobbs,  with 
so  much  unction  that  the  other  roared  aloud. 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  marry,  and  I  never  shall 
marry,  and  that  is  all  there  is  to  it,"  said  the  capital- 
ist, when  he  grew  sober  again.  "I've  got  to  have  a 
housekeeper,  if  I  live  here,  and  I've  had  enough  of 
your  Martins.  With  Roland  across  the  sea  I'm  glad 
to  have  this  woman  and  her  child  to  brighten  up 
the  house  a  little.  You  are  getting  to  be  a  crank  of 
the  first  water,  Tom  Hobbs,  and  you  growl  at  every- 
thing." 

Hobbs  puffed  away  at  his  pipe. 

"  Perhaps  I  am,"  he  replied.  "  Perhaps  I'm 
always  wrong,  and  perhaps  you  have  had  occasion 
to  know  that  I'm  pretty  of  ten  right.  Human  nature 
is  the  same  the  world  over,  and  I'm  going  to  make 
a  prediction  right  here.  Either  this  woman  will 
make  trouble  for  you,  or  that  little  girl  will  make 
trouble  for  Roland." 

"  The  little  girl  !"  exclaimed  Linnette,  staring 
hard  at  his  companion. 

"  Yes,  sir  !"  said  Hobbs.  "  He  is  about  twenty 
years  old.  She  is  fifteen  or  sixteen.  She  and  her 
mother  will  get  a  foothold  here,  and  you  won't  be 
able  to  dislodge  them.  When  he  comes  home  they 
will  make  a  dead-set  at  him.  You'll  see  !" 

Mr.  Linnette  pooh-poohed  at  this,  calling  it  sisly, 


76  LOVB   AT    SEYMTTY. 

nonsensical,  ridiculous,  but  Hobbs,  with  the  dogma- 
tism of  his  nature,  persisted  in  reiterating  his  pre- 
diction. 

The  owner  of  Montvale  could  not  connect  such  a 
probability  with  the  slender,  golden-haired  child  he 
had  welcomed  so  willingly.  But,  at  that  time,  even 
had  he  believed  that  Hobbs'  worst  fears  would  come 
true,  he  would  not  have  been  alarmed  at  the  pros- 
pect. He  had  at  heart  only  the  most  democratic 
notions,  and  he  did  not  see  anything  terrible  in  the 
idea  that  his  nephew  might  marry  the  daughter  of 
such  a  woman  as  his  housekeeper. 

Mrs.  Warren  went  about  her  duties  in  a  way  that 
pleased  him  much.  The  dining  table  did  not  seem 
at  all  like  its  old  self  when  she  sat  at  it  with  him, 
the  child  between  them.  The  sunshine  thus  brought 
into  his  life  gradually  reconciled  him  to  the  pro- 
longed absence  of  his  nephew,  and  finally  made  him 
apprehensive  of  his  return.  It  was  such  a  nice 
family  party  at  that  board,  and  around  the  fireplace 
of  an  evening  !  He  used  to  think  of  Roland  as  so 
much  older  than  when  he  went  away,  and  agreed 
with  Tom  Hobbs  that  there  would  be  a  vast  differ- 
ence between  the  school-boy  and  the  young  gentle- 
man who  would  return  from  his  travels. 

"  He  is  getting  a  great  deal  of  experience,"  Hobbs 
said,  one  evening,  "  and  nothing  alters  a  young  man 
like  that.  He  will  learn  all  the  good  things — and 
the  bad  ones — to  be  found  over  there." 

44  The  bad  ones  !"  echoed  Linnette,  with  a  start. 

"To  be  sure!  Do  you  suppose  he  is  going  to 
come  home  with  the  down  still  on  his  cheek  ?  He's 


OLD   TOM  HOBBS.  77 

4 

seeing  the  men  of  many  lands — ay,  and  the  women, 
too  !     And  it's  a  nice  chase  they'll  lead  him  !" 

Hobbs  chuckled  behind  his  pipe  like  some  goblin 
of  old,  while  his  companion  shivered  from  a  sensa- 
tion he  could  not  repress. 

"  He  is  not  a  boy  of  bad  mind,"  he  said,  with  an 
effort  to  appear  positive. 

"Stuff!"  growled  Hobbs.  "A  young  duck  is 
bound  to  swim  if  it's  allowed  to  get  near  the  water." 

"  I'll  write  to  him  to  start  home  to-morrow,"  said 
the  uncle,  anxiously. 

"You'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  The  best  way  is 
to  let  him  alone.  He'll  get  sick  of  it  all  the  sooner, 
and  settle  down  as  steady  as  anyone,  when  you  want 
him,  years  from  now." 

Somehow  the  time  never  seemed  right  for  Mr. 
Linnette  to  cut  short  Roland's  journeying.  He 
developed  such  an  interest  in  Eva  that,  before  he 
was  aware  of  it,  his  nephew's  affairs  became  of 
secondary  importance.  He  ascertained  that  the 
child  had  been  very  well  taught  for  her  age,  and 
proposed  of  his  own  accord  that  she  should  be  sent 
to  a  boarding-school,  a  short  distance  away.  When 
Mrs.  Warren  expressed  a  guarded  doubt  whether 
she  could  afford  the  expense,  he  remarked  that  he 
intended  to  double  her  salary. 

Though  the  widow  knew  that  the  increase  in 
her  compensation  was  made  entirely  on  Eva's 
account,  she  appreciated  the  kindness  of  the  proposi- 
tion and  felt  herself  justified  in  accepting  it.  Eva 
went  to  the  boarding-school,  but  she  did  not  remain 
long.  Mr.  Linnette  missed  her  quite  as  much  as 


78  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 

her  mother  did,  and  when  she  came  notne  at  the 
end  of  her  first  term  he  suggested  that  it  would  be 
better  to  engage  a  governess,  and  arrange  with  pro- 
fessors from  the  boarding-school  to  visit  her  at  his 
house. 

"  It  will  cost  more,  very  likely,"  he  admitted, 
when  this  objection  was  raised  by  Mrs.  Warren, 
"but  never  mind.  I  have  noticed  that  the  absence 
of  the  child  wears  on  you,  and  I  had  rather  pay  the 
extra  sum  than  to  exchange  you  for  another  house- 
keeper." 

Mrs.  Warren  had  had  a  hard  struggle  to  make 
both  ends  meet,  before  she  obtained  this  position. 
She  had  lain  awake  many  nights  wondering  what 
would  be  the  ultimate  result,  and  what  would  hap- 
pen to  her  young  daughter  when  she  was  no  longer 
able  to  provide  for  her.  The  comfortable  place  into 
which  she  had  drifted,  the  ease  with  which  every- 
thing was  now  tided  over,  was  very  grateful  after 
those  years  of  doubt  and  anxiety.  She  did  not  look 
much  into  the  future  beyond  the  needs  of  the  present 
hour,  and  was  very  far  from  being  of  the  designing 
nature  which  Tom  Hobbs  imagined.  Within  a  year 
she  had  come  to  have  no  further  thought  about  Eva 
than  that  Mr.  Linnette  would  see  to  everything. 

"  You  are  sowing  a  pretty  crop  of  trouble  to  reap 
one  of  these  days,"  said  Tom  Hobbs  to  his  employer, 
when  Eva  had  come  home  from  the  boarding-school 
and  was  receiving  instructions  from  special  masters. 

"  How  is  that  ?"  inquired  the  other,  laconically. 

"Aren't  you  bringing  up  this  housekeeper's 
daughter  like  a  lady  ?" 


OLD    TOM    HOBBS.  79 

"I  am  trying  to,"  was  the  gentle  answer. 

"I  mean,  you're  teaching  her  to  regard  herself  as 
above  her  proper  station  ?  That's  not  a  kindness  to 
the  girl  nor  a  piece  of  wisdom  for  ypurself." 

"  What  is  her  proper  station  ?"  inquired  Linnette, 
dreamily. 

"The  station  of  a  girl  who  ought,  if  she  ever 
marries,  to  be  a  poor  man's  wife.  What  comfort 
will  she  get  in  that  position  after  you  have  filled  her 
head  with  all  the  airs  that  the  French  master  and 
the  German  master  and  the  dancing-master  will  give 
her?" 

"  She  won't  be  worse  on  account  of  her  education, 
I  hope." 

Hobbs  blew  a  cloud  from  his  ever  present  pipe. 

"  When  you  get  her  fixed  up  she'll  fascinate  your 
nephew.  Wait  and  see  if  my  words  aren't  true. 
When  he  comes  home  she'll  wind  him  around  her 
finger." 

Mr.  Linnette  gazed  abstractedly  into  the  fireplace. 
What  did  he  see  there  ?  Perhaps  a  happy  young 
husband  and  wife,  and  other  little  children  that 
looked  like  Eva  and  spoke  like  Roland. 

"Do  you  really  think  so  ?"  he  murmured. 

"As  sure  as  you  live!"  said  Hobbs,  impatiently. 
"What  makes  you  so  blind  ?  When  he  comes  here 
this  widow  and  her  daughter  will  be  ready  for  him. 
They've  pulled  the  wool  over  your  eyes  nicely,  and 
they'll  do  the  same  with  your  heir.  They've  planted 
themselves  here,  and  they'll  own  everything  before 
they've  done — yes,  all  the  Linnettes  and  all 
Montvale!" 


80  LOVE  AT  SEVENTY. 

"  Eva  is  only  sixteen,"  said  Linnette,  absently. 

And  even  as  he  spoke  she  came  in  to  say  good- 
night to  him.  And  as  no  one  saw  her — Hobbs  turn- 
ing his  face  to  the  fire — she  placed  her  fair  arms 
around  the  neck  of  her  foster-father  and  let  him  kiss 
her  on  the  brow,  as  was  his  wont.  Then,  tripping 
out  of  the  room  like  a  fairy,  she  left  him  again  to  his 
gruff  companion,  the  encircling  clouds  of  tobacco 
smoke  and  another  batch  of  dreary  prognostications 
in  regard  to  her  future. 


"YOU  MEAN  THE  YOUNG  LADY."        81 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

"  YOU    MEAN     THE    YOUNG  LADY." 

I  cannot  help  agreeing  with  the  reader  that  it  is 
hardly  fair  to  leave  young  Guy  Dalton  any  longer  in 
his  friendless  condition,  and  we  will  proceed  as  fast 
as  Mr.  Hanson's  best  team  can  take  us  to  the  house 
where  he  is  lying  under  the  care  of  the  country 
doctor.  Roland  found  him  conscious,  but  very 
weak,  though  able  to  take  the  sleigh-ride  necessary 
to  convey  him  to  Montvale.  Supported  on  extra 
pillows  and  covered  with  warm  robes  he  rode  as 
easily  as  if  in  the  most  perfect  ambulance.  The 
doctor  came  with  the  party  and,  before  he  left,  gave 
minute  directions  in  relation  to  care  and  medicines. 
He  said  the  young  fellow  was  merely  suffering  from 
exhaustion  caused  by  lack  of  nourishment,  and  that 
he  would  come  out  of  it  all  right,  if  given  proper 
care. 

"  So  you  wouldn't  come  up  and  dine  with  me,  eh  ?" 
said  Roland,  half  jokingly,  half  seriously,  when  he 
had  put  his  charge  in  bed.  "  But  I've  got  you,  and 
I  shall  keep  you.  You  had  your  way  this  morning, 
now  I'm  going  to  have  mine." 

Guy  was  not  long  in  recovering.  The  medicines 
ordered  by  the  doctor,  combined  with  the  warm 
atmosphere  of  his  new  quarters,  and  the  nourishing 
food  that  was  given  him,  put  him  on  his  feet  inside 


82  LOVB    AT   SEVENTY. 

of  three  days.  Indeed,  had  his  host  permitted,  he 
would  have  left  his  bed  sooner.  He  had  a  naturally 
strong  constitution  and  this  was  his  first  serious 
illness. 

Every  time  he  spoke  it  was  to  express  regret  that 
he  had  put  his  new  friend  to  so  much  expense  and 
trouble. 

"  I  must  go    to-morrow,"  he  said,  every  morning. 

"  It  will  be  time  enough  to  see  about  that  when 
to-morrow  comes,"  was  the  smiling  reply. 

On  the  fifth  day  the  lad  declared  that  he  was  quite 
able  to  take  his  departure.  He  was  impatient  to 
begin  again  his  search  for  employment. 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  let  you  go,  if  you  insist 
upon  it,"  said  Roland,  when  all  arguments  failed. 
"  I  will  make  out  your  bill  at  once." 

Guy  looked  much  troubled. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  pay  you  with,"  he  said,  "  but 
as  soon  as  I  earn  anything  I  will  send  it.  If  you 
will  trust  me — " 

"Oh,  I  can't  do  that,"  replied  Roland,  soberly. 
"  With  a  stranger,  you  know,  one  must  always  have 
the  cash — or  reasonable  security." 

"  Alas  !  I  can  give  you  nothing  but  my  word." 

"  It  will  not  do,"  said  the  other,  shaking  his  head 
with  decision.  "  When  a  debtor  is  unable  to  pay,  the 
creditor  has  a  right  to  hold  his  body.  That  has  been 
the  custom  in  all  ages.  You  admit  that  you  owe  me 
some  odd  dollars  and  cents.  You  say  you  have  no 
money.  Very  well.  I  shall  hold  you  for  the  amount. 
You  will  have  to  remain  here  until  the  debt  is 
discharged." 


"  YOU    MEAN    THE   YOUNG    LADY."  83 

The  lad  could  not  tell  exactly  how  much  serious- 
ness and  how  much  humor  there  was  in  these  pecu- 
liar words. 

"  The  debt  would  never  grow  smaller  in  that  way," 
he  answered.  "  It  would  constantly  be  on  the 
increase.  The  price  of  my  board  would  be  added  to 
ivhat  I  already  owe  you." 

Then  Roland  laughed. 

"But  if  you  are  allowed  to  leave,"  he  said,  "there 
will  be  various  other  items  to  charge  you  with. 
Supposing  you  go  away  to-day.  This  evening  I 
shall  receive  word  that  you  have  fallen  ill  at  some 
point  on  the  road  and  have  required  the  services  of 
another  doctor.  I  shall  be  obliged  to  hire  a  sleigh 
to  bring  you  back  here,  and  go  through  all  this  nurs- 
ing again.  Then  there  will  be  a  second  bill  for 
medicines  and  the  et  ceteras.  No,  my  boy,  it  would 
really  make  you  too  expensive." 

Dalton  cast  down  his  eyes,  pained  at  the  levity 
with  which  his  misfortunes  were  discussed. 

"  You  think,  because  I  did  not  get  work  before, 
that  I  never  shall, "said  he.  "The  trouble  was  I  was 
nearly  starved,  and  had  no  strength  or  courage. 
When  I  was  refused  at  the  first  place  I  fainted  in 
the  road." 

"  Yes,  and  you  would  faint  again,"  was  the  reply. 
"  There  is  no  work  for  you  in  all  this  region.  The 
only  situation  you  can  find  in  a  year's  search  is  right 
here,  at  your  disposal.  Refuse  it  as  often  as  you 
please,  you  will  have  to  accept  it  at  last." 

Guy  protested  that  it  was  no  situation,  but  simply 
charity,  that  was  offered  him. 


84  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

"  You  are  quite  wrong,"  said  Roland.  "  If  you 
leave  me  when  I  want  you  so  much  I  shall  think  you 
very  ungrateful.  Until  within  the  past  week  I  have 
been  going  insane.  Now  there  are  two  people  who 
may  save  me  from  that  fate  ;  you — and  Maud." 

Guy  had  heard  the  latter  name  frequently  during 
the  past  few  days. 

"  You  mean  the  young  lady  who  brings  up  our 
meals,"  he  said. 

"  There  is  but  one  Maud  in  the  world,"  said 
Roland,  rapturously.  "  Possibly  there  are  thou- 
sands who  bear  that  name,  but  there  never  was  and 
never  will  be  any  other  Maud  for  me.  I  believe," 
he  continued,  as  if  in  a  reverie,  "you  have  never 
seen  Maud." 

Dalton  replied  that  he  had  only  heard  her  voice. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  another  so  delicious  ?" 

Guy  replied  that  he  thought  it  very  agreeable. 

"It  is  the  music  of  an  angel!"  cried  Roland. 
"When  I  listen  to  it  I  forget  that  I  am  on  this  cold 
earth,  and  imagine  that  a  bit  of  Heaven  has  been  let 
down.  And  her  face  is  sweeter  even  than  her  melo- 
dious tongue.  I  cannot  describe  it — you  will  soon 
see  for  yourself." 

He  said  this  so  earnestly  that  his  young  compan- 
ion was  silent,  for  want  of  something  suitable  in  the 
way  of  reply. 

"  How  old  are  you  ?"  Roland  asked,  presently. 

"  Twenty-two  years." 

"Indeed!  As  old  as  myself!  I  shouldn't  have 
thought  it.  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  this  is  a 
miserable,  selfish  world,  to  let  such  seraphs  do  its 


"YOU  MEAN  THB   YOUNG   LADY."  85 

drudgery,  reserving  its  luxury  and  favors  for  women 
not  fit  to  tie  her  shoes?  I  am  ashamed  sometimes 
to  live  in  it,  and  accept  its  bounty,  for  I  am  no  bet- 
ter than  the  rest.  Why  was  I  made  to  want  food 
and  clothing — to  desire  delicacy  and  ease  ?  If  only 
I  could  bring  myself  to  relinquish  those  things, 
there  is  in  me  the  making  of  a  hero.  Willard  Lin- 
nette,  who  owns  this  hotel,  this  village,  that  grand 
estate  which  you  can  see  from  the  window,  the 
factories  yonder  (where  they  had  no  place  for  you), 
even  the  bodies  and  souls  of  the  workmen  and  their 
families  who  have  helped  him  build  up  this  gigantic 
possession,  is  my  uncle.  Of  what  use  is  it  all  to 
him  ?  And  when  he  is  through  with  it,  it  will  go  to 
an  ungrateful  nephew." 

Guy  protested  mildly  against  the  arraignment 
which  Roland  made  of  himself.  He  was  certain 
that  his  kind  host  had  not  so  mean  a  quality  in  him 
as  ingratitude. 

"  And  your  father  ?"  he  asked.  "  Have  you  been 
long  an  orphan  ?" 

Roland's  face  grew  bitter. 

"  My  father,"  he  replied,  "  has  sense  enough  to 
know  that  there  is  more  pleasure  to  be  got  from 
books  than  from  children.  To  him  I  am  only  an 
unfortunate  accident.  It  is  my  uncle  to  whom  I 
owe  all  I  have,  and  the  only  return  I  am  likely  to 
give  is  annoyance  and  disgrace." 

Guy  interrupted  to  say  he  was  sure  this  was  not  so. 

"And  I  am  equally  certain  it  is.  What  do  you 
think  he  would  say  if  I  told  him  I  thought  of  marry* 
ing  Maud  ?" 


86  LOVE    >T    SEVENTY. 

Guy  could  not  repress  a  start  of  astonishment. 

"  And  you  do  ?"  he  exclaimed,  breathlessly. 

"  Not  at  all.  Being  the  heir  of  a  great  fortune 
makes  it  an  impossibility.  I  only  say,  supposing  I 
did  intend  it,  and  went  to  this  man — who  was  once 
as  poor  as  she,  mind  you — and  told  him.  I  can  hear 
him  now,  in  imagination  :  '  You  young  rascal,  is  this 
the  way  you  requite  my  favors,  throwing  yourself 
away  on  a  common  working  girl  ?  Never,  sir,  never, 
will  I  give  my  consent !  If  you  marry  her  you  may 
cease  to  expect  another  penny  from  me  !' ' 

Roland's  imitation  of  his  uncle's  wrath  was  so 
striking  that  he  could  not  help  being  moved  to 
laughter  by  his  own  portrayal. 

"  Perhaps  you  misjudge  him,"  said  Guy,  mildly. 

"  I  know  him  well  enough  not  to  try  it,"  was  the 
reply.  "And  I  am  sure,  consequently,"  he  added, 
very  slowly,  "  that  the  natural  result  will  follow." 

His  guest  looked  up  with  astonishment  in  his  dark 
eyes. 

"  What  result  ?"  he  articulated. 

"  As  if  you  did  not  know  !"  responded  Roland, 
with  good-natured  sarcasm.  "  How  can  it  be  other- 
wise ?  When  she  has  learned  to  love  me  I  shall  go 
my  way  and  leave  her." 

The  younger  man's  lips  opened  slightly,  and  his 
attitude  of  strained  attention  relaxed  a  little  at  the 
answer.  He  looked  more  like  a  child,  with  his  white 
face,  than  a  man  of  twenty-two. 

"  Nothing  more  ?"  he  whispered. 

"I  hope  not,"  was  Roland's  reply.  "Our  fates 
are  with  the  gods.  Come,  you  have  talked  enough 


"YOU   MEAN   THI   YOUNG   LADY."  87 

for  one  day.  If  you  are  going  to  leave  to-morrow 
you  need  rest.  Can  you  spare  me  for  an  hour  ?" 

Receiving  an  affirmative  reply  Roland  went  out 
for  a  stroll,  desirous  of  breathing  the  cool  air  of  the 
beautiful  winter  day.  He  wore  leggings,  in  which 
his  trousers  were  buttoned,  and  a  slouch  hat  and 
fur-trimmed  overcoat,  giving  him  the  appearance  of 
a  trooper.  He  walked  up  the  road,  taking  his 
direction  at  random,  and  paused  opposite  the  great 
Linnette  residence,  where  he  had  passed  so  much  of 
his  boyhood. 

The  grounds  were  surrounded  by  a  high  wall. 
Thinking  that  he  would  step  inside  for  a  moment  he 
went  around  to  the  massive  gates,  and  found  them 
securely  locked.  This  surprised  him  much,  as  he 
had  never  known  them  in  this  condition  except  at 
night  time.  As  he  was  revolving  this  matter  in  his 
mind  he  glanced  up  the  road  a  little  farther,  and 
saw  a  man  at  work  with  pickaxe  and  shovel.  Walk- 
ing slowly  toward  the  man  he  soon  recognized  him 
as  Roger  Butler,  who  had  been  in  his  uncle's  employ 
much  longer  than  he  could  remember. 

"  Hallo,  Roger  !"  he  said,  affably. 

The  man  paused  in  his  work,  and  for  an  instant 
surveyed  the  newcomer  with  an  expression  of  doubt. 

"  Don't  you  recognize  me  ?"  cried  Roland. 

"  I  do  now,  sir,"  answered  the  man,  taking  the 
hand  that  was  offered  him.  "  It's  a  good  while  since 
I  saw  you,  Mr.  Roland.  I  heard  tell  that  you  had 
come  to  Montvale,  but  I  wasn't  thinking  of  seeing 
you  up  here." 


88  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 

The  young  man  paused  to  digest  this  statement. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Well,  you  see,  sir,"  replied  the  man,  "  the  drain 
is  out  of  order,  and  we  couldn't  very  well  wait.  I 
don't  like  to  go  to  the  expense  of  hiring  a  regular 
pipe  layer,  when  your  uncle's  away,  until  I've  made 
sure  I  can't  do  it  myself." 

The  workman  evidently  expected  something  in  the 
way  of  commendation,  but  Roland  was  silent  for  a 
moment. 

"How  long  have  you  worked  for  my  uncle  ?"  he 
asked,  presently. 

"  I  began,  sir,  over  forty  years  ago,  when  he  first 
opened  the  works." 

"You  are  not  a  young  man." 

"  Nigh  on  to  seventy,  sir,  but  hale  and  hearty." 

"  You  have  worked  pretty  steadily  ?" 

"Never  missed  a  day  in  all  that  time." 

"  You  must  be  pretty  well  off,  now,  Roger." 

The  man  looked  in  a  puzzled  way  at  his  questioner. 

"  You  must  have  a  good  deal  of  money  laid  away." 

The  workman  shook  his  head  decidedly. 

"  Not  a  blessed  penny,  sir.  I  have  always  thought 
I  did  pretty  well  to  bring  up  the  children — seven  of 
them — and  take  care  of  the  old  woman." 

Roland  was  not  as  much  surprised  as  he  pretended, 
but  he  was  in  the  mood  for  this  kind  of  talk,  and  he 
proceeded  : 

"  I  suppose  you  remember  when  my  uncle  was 
about  as  poor  as  you." 

"Yes,  sir.     We  worked  side  by  side  at  Ashfield." 

"  He  has  something  laid  away,  I  believe  ?" 


aTOU    MEAH  THB  YOUNG   LADY."  89 

The  old  man  leaned  contemplatively  on  his  shovel 

"You  may  well  say  that,  sir." 

"How  much  does  he  pay  you  a  day?"  pursued 
the  questioner. 

"A  dollar  and  a  half." 

"  And  how  much  does  he  get  ?' 

Roger  shook  his  head,  as  if  to  imply  that  those 
figures  were  beyond  the  reach  of  his  powers  of 
computation. 

"  More  than  you,  at  least.  Now,  can  you  tell  me 
why?  Does  he  work  any  harder?  Do  you  think  he 
really  earns  a  hundred  times  as  much  ?" 

Roger  murmured  that  Mr.  Linnette  did  a  big 
business. 

"That's  true," assented  Roland.  *'  His  business  is 
large,  but  how  long  would  it  run  without  you  and 
such  as  you.  And  you  only  get  a  dollar  and  a  half 
a  day  !" 

The  man  looked  grateful  at  the  interest  taken  in 
him. 

"  I  would  like  it  if  I  could  get  a  dollar  seventy-five," 
he  said.  "  You  might  kindly  speak  to  him  when  he 
comes  home,  not  saying  I  asked  you.  He  has  treated 
me  so  well  I  wouldn't  want  him  to  think  I  was  com- 
plaining." 

Roland  grew  retrospective. 

"  Do  you  know  what  you  were  doing  the  first  time 
I  ever  saw  you,  Roger  ?  Just  what  you  are  doing 
now.  You  were  working  with  a  pick  and  shovel.  I 
could  not  have  been  more  than  five  or  six  years  old, 
but  I  remember  the  very  place  in  the  grounds  where 
you  were  digging.  Here  you  are  at  the  same  kind 


90  LOVB   AT  SEVENTY. 

of  occupation.  When  will  you  quit  it  ?  When  some 
one  else  has  to  use  the  same  tools  for  you,  over  there 
in  the  cemetery.  And  he  gives  you  a  dollar  and  a 
half  a  day  !  Just  the  wages  he  would  give  a  man 
whom  he  had  never  seen  before,  one  with  whom  he 
had  not  eaten  the  black  bread  of  poverty.  Roger," 
the  speaker  raised  his  voice,  "  he  ought  to  give  you 
ten  dollars  a  day,  and  tell  you  never  to  work  again 
as  long  as  you  live  !" 

Butler,  who  had  been  surveying  the  young  man 
with  wonder,  shook  his  head,  as  if  to  imply  that  this 
was  not  likely  to  occur. 

"What  are  those  gates  locked  for?"  continued 
Roland,  pointing  to  them.  "  Doesn't  any  one  live 
there  when  he  is  away  ?" 

"  Only  the  housekeeper  and  her  daughter,  and  the 
servants,"  was  the  response. 

"  Her  daughter  ?"  repeated  Roland,  surprised. 

He  glanced  up  at  the  windows  that  were  nearest 
to  him,  and  saw  a  fair  face  that  disappeared  almost 
instantly  from  view. 


AKOD1TD   THE    POST-OFFICE    FIBK.  91 


CHAPTER   IX. 

AROUND    THE    POST-OFFICE    FIRE. 

The  next  morning,  when  Guy  Dalton  spoke  again 
of  leaving,  Roland  answered  him  quite  sharply.  He 
declared  that  if  he  carried  out  his  purpose  he  would 
have  nothing  more  to  do  with  him — no,  not  if  the 
news  came  that  he  was  dying  on  the  road.  Affected 
by  this  earnestness  the  young  fellow  yielded,  and 
promised  to  remain  for  the  present.  It  required  a 
more  prolonged  struggle  of  mind  before  he  would 
allow  his  friend  to  order  him  a  suit  of  clothing  from 
the  village  tailor,  but  finally  he  accepted  that  also. 

The  new  garments  made  a  striking  change  in  his 
appearance.  That  he  was  not  wholly  oblivious  to 
his  good  looks,  a  long  stay  in  front  of  the  mirror  on 
the  morning  of  their  arrival,  testified.  Roland 
wished  he  knew  more  of  his  history,  for  he  was  cer- 
tain that  he  had  not  always  been  in  his  present  im- 
pecunious condition  ;  but  he  had  too  much  polite- 
ness to  annoy  his  guest  with  questions  at  a  time 
when  they  could  hardly  help  proving  disagreeable. 

The  two  young  men  took  their  meals  together  in 
Roland's  sitting-room,  now  that  Guy  was  able  to  be 
about.  The  first  morning  that  they  breakfasted 
together  Roland  asked  his  friend  pointedly  what  he 
thought  of  their  waitress. 


92  LOVB   AT   SEVENTY. 

"  Is  she  not  a  beauty  !"  he  exclaimed,  the  instant 
Miss  Arline  shut  the  door  behind  her. 

"  I  did  not  observe  her  very  closely,"  responded 
Dalton,  evasively. 

"  Don't  tell  me  that  !"  laughed  the  other.  "  I  had 
my  eye  on  you,  and  I  feared  by  your  expression  that 
you  considered  her  part  of  the  men*." 

"  Has  she  not  been  in  the  habit  of  sitting  at  your 
table  ?"  asked  Guy,  to  divert  his  companion's 
attention. 

"  For  the  last  few  days,  yes.  It  was  insufferable 
here,  with  no  one  to  speak  to,  and  yotf  lying  in  the 
room  yonder.  She  sat  down  with  me  and  pretended 
to  eat,  but  I  know  she  didn't  enjoy  Jt.  She  is 
intensely  sensitive  and  inclined  to  be  easily 
frightened." 

The  young  fellow  looked  up  with  a  pained  expres- 
sion in  his  eyes. 

"  I  can't  see  why  you  want  her  to  do  i^fcat  was 
disagreeable  ?" 

Roland  laughed  lightly. 

"  Can't  you  ?"  he  asked,  laconically. 

"  It  does  not  seem  like  the  other  things  yov  do." 

"  What  other  things  ?" 

"Your  thoughtfulness  on  my  account,  for  <&ne," 
said  Guy,  in  a  shaking  voice. 

Roland  studied  his  companion's  face  intently. 

"But,  you  see,  Maud  is  a  woman,"  he  repkJed, 
very  slowly. 

"I  do  not  understand,"  was  the  quick  re[Nly, 
"why  that  should  lessen  your  kindness  to  her." 

*'  Should?"    repeated    the     other,  with     a    ris4^JJ 


THE   POttT-OFFICE    FIRE.  93 

inflection.  '  Shojld  '  is  a  great  word,  Guy.  Pro- 
bably Maud's  sex  should  not  lessen  my  considera- 
tion ;  but  it  does,  that  is  the  thing  at  issue.  It  less- 
ens the  kindness  of  every  man  to  every  woman,  the 
moment  she  becomes  dependent  upon  his  purse.  I 
suppose  I  am  as  bad  a  man  as  ever  lived,  but  in  this 
respect  I  am  no  worse  than  the  rest." 

Dalton  shook  his  head  slowly,  as  though  far  from 
convinced.  Still  he  did  not  like  to  enter  upon  an 
argument  with  his  benefactor. 

"  Shall  I  prove  it  to  you  ?"  asked  Roland,  after  a 
pause.  "  You  are  not  a  child,  though  sometimes 
you  put  on  the  look  of  one.  I  want  you  to  come 
with  me  some  evening  to  the  village  post-office,  or 
one  of  the  stores,  and  listen  to  the  talk  of  the  men 
who  gather  there.  They  may  discuss  politics  or 
business  while  a  dozen  women  come  and  go.  But 
presently  one  will  appear  at  whose  advent  all  con- 
versation languishes.  While  she  remains  little  is 
done  but  staring  her  in  the  face,  or  nudging  some 
newcomer  to  call  his  attention  to  her. 

"  What  has  happened  ?  Why,  gossip  has  begun 
to  connect  her  name  with  scandal.  Someone  has 
hinted  that  she  is  not  as  good  as  she  might  be. 
Young  Parkley  has  been  driving  with  her,  and  every- 
body can  guess  what  that  means.  She  has  been 
seen  in  another  town,  late  in  the  evening,  walking 
with  a  man  not  known  in  Montvale.  The  group  in 
the  store  or  post-office  stare  at  her  as  long  as  she 
remains,  and  when  she  goes  out  they  discuss  her 
alleged  faults  with  glistening  eyes  and  lickerish 
mouths,  leaning  over  each  others'  shoulders,  fearful 


94  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

lest  they  should  lose  a  word.  Montvale  is  a  town 
of  more  than  average  virtue,  but  I  have  seen  this 
here,  even  in  the  brief  time  since  my  return.  And 
what  happens  here  occurs  in  increasing  ratio  in 
towns  of  larger  size — all  over  the  country — all  over 
the  so-called  civilized  earth." 

An  expression  of  the  deepest  horror  spread  over 
the  face  of  the  listener. 

"These  men  who  sit  around  the  stores  and  par- 
ticipate in  these  discussions,"  continued  Roland, 
apparently  pleased  to  find  that  he  was  making  an 
impression,  "  have,  many  of  them,  daughters  of  their 
own.  If  one  of  them  saw  a  dog  worrying  a  neigh- 
bor's sheep  he  would  leave  his  work  till  he  got  the 
animal  into  its  fold.  If  he  heard  that  a  wolf  had 
been  seen  on  the  hillside  he  would  mention  it  to 
every  farmer  he  met,  that  they  might  bring  in  their 
young  cattle.  If  his  neighbor's  daughter  was 
going  for  a  sail  on  the  lake,  and  he  knew  that  the 
boat  was  leaking,  or  noticed  a  storm  coming  up,  he 
would  run  a  mile  to  save  her.  But  when  he  hears 
something  that  may  wreck  her  life  forever,  how 
seldom  will  he  warn  either  her  or  her  parents  ! 

"  It  is  notorious  that  the  father  and  mother  of  a 
girl  who  goes  astray  are  the  last  persons  to  suspect 
that  anything  is  the  matter.  Everybody  else  will 
tell  you  they  have  been  suspicious  for  a  long  time, 
but  to  her  own  family  her  fall  comes  like  a  clap  of 
thunder.  The  mother  will  say,  '  I  knew  Mamie  was 
fond  of  company  and  a  good  time,  but  I  never 
dreamed  that  anything  could  go  wrong  with  her.' 
Yet  these  men  at  the  post-office  knew  !  Some  of 


ABOUND   THE    POST-OFFICE   FTRE.  95 

them  had  talked  with  her  in  a  way  which  showed 
they  did  not  think  very  severely  of  her  peccadilloes. 
Had  there  been  opportunity  they  would  have  joined 
their  guilt  to  hers,  as  freely  as  if  they  had  not  known 
her  in  her  cradle,  as  if  she  had  not  played  with  their 
children  in  pinafores  !" 

The  listener  sat  like  one  entranced. 

"  I  have  made  a  study  of  this  thing,  my  boy,  and  I 
speak  by  the  card,"  continued  Roland.  "  I  presume 
I  have  talked  with  hundreds  of  girls  in  all  countries, 
for  I  have  been  a  great  traveller.  Until  a  little  while 
ago  I  had  not  seen  my  native  land  for  three  years. 
When  I  went  abroad  I  was  as  innocent  as  you  seem 
to  be.  [  could  hardly  believe  that  I  should  find  in 
the  United  States  what  had  so  astonished  me  on  the 
other  side  of  the  world.  Now  I  know  there  is  no 
difference,  or  if  there  is,  it  is  not  to  the  credit  of 
America.  If  I  were  to  proclaim  aloud  what  I  have 
seen,  there  would  arise  a  howl  that  could  be  heard 
from  here  to  San  Francisco." 

The  speaker  rose  and  took  a  few  steps  up  and 
down  the  room,  and  Guy  found  words  to  ask  if 
Roland  had  any  remedy  to  suggest  for  the  state  of 
affairs  which  he  pictured. 

"7  suggest  !"  echoed  young  Linnette,  suddenly 
dropping  his  sober  manner  and  breaking  into  a 
laugh.  "  I  would  be  a  nice  sort  of  individual  to  sug- 
gest things,  wouldn't  I  ?  My  residence  is  made  of 
crystal.  I  am  not  going  into  the  stone-throwing 
business  to  any  alarming  extent." 

"  But  something  must  be  done,"  persisted  Guy, 
earnestly. 


96  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

"  Some  one  has  said,"  smiled  Roland,  "  that  the 
best  way  to  reform  the  world  is  for  each  person  to 
reform  himself.  It  is  easier  for  the  child  who  never 
tasted  wine  to  abstain  from  drunkenness  than  it  is 
for  the  confirmed  sot.  It  is  rather  late  for  me,  but 
you  can  set  the  world  a  shining  example." 

He  meant  to  bring  a  laugh  to  the  countenance  of 
his  guest,  but  Guy  was  as  sober  as  ever. 

"You  began  this,"  he  said,  hesitatingly,  "by  a 
reference  to  Miss  Arline.  Surely  it  has  no  rightful 
connection  with  her  ?" 

"  Indeed  it  has,"  was  the  reply.  "  Maud  is  poor 
as  a  church-mouse,  pretty  and  friendless.  Our 
wretch  of  a  landlord  assigns  her  to  my  especial  use 
because  he  knows  that  my  bills  will  be  paid,  no 
matter  how  large  he  makes  them." 

"  And  also,  I  hope,  because  he  has  confidence  in 
you." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind.  He  knows  that  Maud  is 
in  danger." 

Guy  stared  wildly  at  his  companion. 

"  But  she  is  not  in  danger — from  you  ?"  he  whis- 
pered, hoarsely. 

Roland  looked  earnestly  at  the  impetuous  youth. 

"  Do — you — think — so  ?"  he  replied. 

"You  cannot  mean — " 

"Don't  get  excited,  my  dear  boy,"  said  Linnette, 
with  a  trace  of  weariness  in  his  tone.  "  I  only  know 
what  results  follow  certain  conditions." 

Guy  had  risen  and  taken  a  step  nearer  his  com- 
panion, where  he  stood  with  folded  arms,  defying 


ABOUND   THE   POST-OFFICE   FIEE.  97 

him.  He  was  as  picturesque  a  figure,  Roland 
thought,  as  he  had  ever  seen. 

"  You  shall  not !  "  he  cried.     "1  will  prevent  you  !" 

"  I  certainly  give  you  leave,"  laughed  Roland. 
"And,  I  assure  you,  you  have  my  best  wishes  for 
success." 

Guy  looked  into  the  amused  face  and  heaved  a 
sigh  of  relief. 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  said.  "  I  forgot  what  I  was 
doing.  It  is  plain  that  you  were  jesting." 

"Don't  be  too  sure,"  replied  Roland,  putting  on 
his  overcoat.  "  But  I  am  going  out  to  take  a  walk. 
To-morrow,  if  it  is  pleasant,  you  ought  to  be  able  to 
stand  a  sleigh-ride  with  me." 

It  was  to  the  counting  room  of  the  Montvale 
Optical  Company  that  the  young  man  took  his  way. 
Before  he  returned  he  had  made  Tom  Hobbs  prom- 
ise to  offer  Guy  a  place  in  the  manufactory,  in  such 
a  manner  that  the  young  fellow  would  not  suspect 
he  had  any  hand  in  it. 

Two  hours  later  Miss  Arline  came  to  young  Mr. 
Linnette's  apartments  to  see  if  anything  was  re- 
quired, and  Guy  found  courage  to  say  a  few  words 
to  her. 

"  I  fear  I  am  making  you  double  work  while  I 
stay,"  he  ventured. 

"  That's  nothing  ;  I  have  very  little  to  do,"  she 
said. 

"  I  believe  you  have  only  these  rooms  to  see  to," 
said  he. 

"  Only  these,"  replied  the  girl,  with  a  slight  blush. 


98  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

"  Are  you  glad  I  came  ?"  demanded  Guy,  earnestly, 
"  or  would  you  rather  he  were  here — alone  ?" 

The  question  startled  her.  It  seemed  almost 
impertinent,  but  as  she  regarded  the  eyes  that 
looked  into  hers  she  could  not  take  offence. 

At  this  juncture  Roland  came  unannounced  into 
the  room. 

"What!  Conspiring  already!"  he  exclaimed, 
gaily,  glancing  from  one  to  the  other 


"I  AM   BOLAND,"    SAID   HI.  99 


CHAPTER  X. 

"I   AM    ROLAND,"    SAID    HE. 

The  engagement  of  young  Dalton  as  assistant  in 
the  Optical  Works  was  hailed  by  him  with  the  great* 
est  delight.  He  had  chafed  severely  at  his  enforced 
idleness,  and  at  the  indebtedness  which  he  was 
piling  up. 

"  Congratulate  me  !"  he  cried  to  Roland.  "  I  am 
the  happiest  fellow  in  the  world.  Not  only  can  I 
earn  my  bread  and  repay  you  what  I  have  borrowed, 
but  I  shall  still  be  where  I  can  see  you  often." 

"  With  all  my  heart,  if  you  wish  it,"  was  the 
response.  "  And  so,  I  am  sure,  will  Maud." 

Dalton  blushed  at  this,  which  made  Roland  laugh 
heartily. 

"  You  will  share  these  rooms  with  me,  just  tha 
same,  I  hope,"  he  said.  "  If  you  go  elsewhere  therd 
will  be  no  one  to  keep  an  eye  on  me  and  the  pretty 
waitress." 

Guy  answered,  hesitatingly,  that  he  feared  he 
could  hardly  afford  so  expensive  a  home. 

"  That's  an  original  idea  !"  said  the  other.  "  A  man 
who  is  going  to  draw  a  salary  can't  afford  as  good 
quarters  as  he  did  when  he  was  earning  nothing  ! 
Stay  where  you  are,  and  I  will  see  that  Hanson 
makes  it  all  right.  He  charges  me  enough  for  tlwee 
or  four,  as  it  is.  And,  really,  I  need  the  restraint  of 


100  LOTE    AT  SETEHTT. 

your  presence  and  example  more  than  I  can  tell 
you." 

So  it  was  settled  that  Guy  would  stay  at  the  Mont- 
vale  House  for  the  present. 

Roland  had  been  thinking  a  good  deal  of  that  face 
he  had  seen  at  the  window  of  the  Linnette  mansion 
— the  face,  as  Roger  Butler  had  told  him,  of  "  the 
housekeeper's  daughter."  It  was  the  kind  to  appeal 
to  his  love  of  the  beautiful  ;  and  there  was  another 
element  which  had  its  full  effect  on  a  mind  so  sus- 
ceptible as  his.  There  was  a  decided  mystery  con- 
nected with  the  affair. 

Why  had  his  uncle  left  orders  that  the  great  gates 
to  his  exetnsive  grounds  should  be  kept  locked 
during  his  absence  ?  Roland  could  remember  them 
from  his  earliest  years,  standing  wide  open  all  day. 
There  could  be  nothing  in  the  grounds  which  needed 
the  special  protection  of  their  strong  arms,  unless  it 
was  this  sylph-like  creature. 

"  The  housekeeper's  daughter  !" 

She  surely  was  not  the  daughter  of  the  house- 
keeper that  he  remembered.  Mrs.  Martin  must 
have  gone  away.  What  kind  of  housekeeper  was  it 
who  could  be  fhe  mother  of  such  a  creature  ?  And 
what  had  Willard  Linnette,  the  confirmed  bachelor, 
the  man  who  had  always  avoided  feminine  society, 
to  do  with  either  of  them  ? 

Roland  determined  not  to  leave  Montvale  until  he 
had  found  an  answer  to  these  questions.  His  heart, 
or  what  Miss  Arline  had  left  untouched  of  it,  had 
gone  out  to  the  face  he  had  seen  at  the  window. 
For  the  fiftieth  occasion  in  the  course  of  his  brief 


"l    AM   BOLAHD,"    SAID    HE.  101 

life  he  was  entangled  in  what  he  believed  a  genuine 
case  of  unalterable  affection. 

The  first  time  he  found  Butler  alone  he  stopped 
for  another  talk  with  him. 

"  Do  you  know  what  became  of  Mrs.  Martin,  who 
was  housekeeper  here  so  long?"  was  his  initial  in- 
quiry. 

He  had  already  heard  from  people  at  the  hotel 
that  she  had  left  Montvale. 

"I  believe  she  went  West  to  live  with  one  of  her 
sons,"  responded  Roger. 

"  What  a  cross  old  lady  she  was  !"  exclaimed 
Roland,  with  a  reminiscent  laugh.  "  I  used  to  think 
sometimes  my  uncle  was  really  afraid  of  her.  Not 
much  like  the  one  he  has  now,"  he  added,  at  a  ven- 
ture. 

"  I  think  everybody  likes  Mrs.  Warren,"  replied 
the  unsuspecting  old  man,  "  though  she  keeps  in- 
doors so  much.  But,  of  course,  Miss  Eva's  not  being 
well  makes  a  difference." 

Roland  replied,  with  a  wise  look,  that  it  did, 
indeed. 

"  Miss  Eva  does  not  go  out  much,  either  ?" 

"  Much  ?"  repeated  Roger.  "  Never.  It  is  months 
since  I  saw  her  outside  the  grounds.  She  doesn't 
mix  with  the  town  people,  you  see.  And  since  she 
left  the  boarding  school  her  teachers  always  come 
on  the  train  and  go  directly  to  the  house.  She  has 
had  all  the  eddication  they  can  give  her,  but  if  she 
doesn't  live  to  grow  up  it  won't  do  her  much 
good." 


102  LOTE    AT   SEVENTY. 

The  young  man  felt  a  blow  at  the  heart.  Could 
it  be  that  his  idol  was  stricken  with  a  fatal  disease  ? 

"What  is  it  that  ails  her?"  he  found  strength  to 
inquire. 

"  They  can't  find  out,"  replied  Roger.  "  They've 
had  every  big  doctor  there  is,  and  every  one  of  'em 
is  puzzled.  She  looks  well  enough,  all  but  the  pale- 
ness, but  she  is  failing  every  day.  It's  my  opinion 
she'll  go  sudden." 

Roland  cried  out,  as  if  he  had  been  struck. 

"  Don't  say  that,  Roger  !"  Then,  in  return  to  the 
surprised  look  of  the  old  man,  he  continued,  "It 
seems  dreadful  that  one  so  young  should  be  destined 
to  death  !  Not  only  for  her,  but  for — " 

He  hesitated,  being  about  to  add  "  her  mother," 
but  Roger  misunderstood  him,  and  innocently 
revealed  another  secret. 

"  Yes,  he  does  take  it  to  heart  pretty  badly,  Mr. 
Roland.  Having  never  been  married,  and  so  having 
no  children  of  his  own,  this  little  girl  sort  of  filled  a 
vacancy  in  the  place." 

He  rambled  on,  with  much  more  to  the  same 
effect,  but  the  young  man  hardly  heard  him.  He 
knew  what  vacancy  this  girl  had  filled.  He  saw,  as 
if  by  the  drawing  away  of  a  curtain,  why  his  uncle 
had  endured  his  absence  so  well  ;  why  he  had  shown 
such  a  mild  joy  at  his  return  ;  why  he  had  preferred 
to  have  him  live  at  the  hotel  ;  why  he  had  locked 
the  big  gates.  But  with  all  these  reflections  no  feel- 
ing of  selfishness  came  to  the  surface.  His  interest 
in  the  face  he  had  seen  at  the  window  was  too  great 
for  that. 


"l    AM    ROLAND,"    SAID    HE.  103 

When  Roland  went  away  it  was  with  the  deter- 
mination to  see  Miss  Eva,  even  at  the  risk  of  his 
uncle's  displeasure.  Though  he  haunted  the  neigh- 
borhood for  a  good  part  of  each  day,  it  was  nearly 
a  week  before  he  had  an  opportunity  such  as  he 
desired.  He  wanted  a  private  interview  with  the 
girl,  which  he  had  no  reason  to  believe  he  could 
obtain  unless  her  mother  was  absent  from  the 
premises.  At  last  his  patience  was  rewarded  by  see- 
ing a  lady  driven  out  by  the  coachman  who  had 
served  the  family  ever  since  Roland  could  remem- 
ber. She,  he  had  no  doubt,  must  be  the  new  house- 
keeper. 

The  gates  were  closed  and  locked  promptly  after 
the  passage  of  the  carriage,  and  ten  minutes  later 
the  watcher  rang  the  bell  at  the  lodge  entrance. 

A  lame  and  aged  servitor  answered  the  ring,  and 
stared  with  much  surprise  when  he  saw  who  had 
given  the  summons. 

"  Ah,  it's  you,  is  it,  Mr.  Roland  ?"  he  said,  with  an 
attempt  at  cordiality.  "  I  heard  you  were  in  the 
village,  but  I  did  not  expect  to  see  you,  and  you 
have  changed  a  great  deal.  You  are  looking  finely, 
though.  I  suppose  you  thought  your  uncle  had 
returned,  but  he  has  not  come  yet.  We  expect  him, 
now,  in  a  day  or  two." 

There  was  nothing  in  this  plausible  address  that 
implied  a  welcome  to  the  prospective  heir  of  the 
house.  On  the  contrary,  the  porter  seemed  impa- 
tient to  close  the  interview  and  the  gate  at  the  same 
time.  Roland  decided  on  a  bold  front. 

"  I    want  to   get   some   books,  Slocum,"  said  he, 


10-f  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

brushing  by  the  man  unceremoniously.  u  I  know 
exactly  where  they  are.  There  is  no  need  for  you 
to  go  with  me." 

The  porter  was  in  a  quandary.  Though  Mr.  Lin* 
nette  had  said  nothing  which  absolutely  directed  him 
to  exclude  his  nephew  from  the  house,  he  had  im- 
plied by  innuendo  that  he  was  not  expected  there. 
Slocum  had  a  grave  fear  of  displeasing  his  employer, 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  no  one  could  tell  how  soon 
this  young  fellow  might  become  master  of  Montvale. 
Roland  did  not  give  him  long  to  debate  these  ques- 
tions, for  he  started  off  at  a  good  rate  of  speed 
toward  the  house. 

"You  cannot  get  into  the  library,"  called  Slocum, 
hobbling  after  him,  his  lameness  not  permitting  a 
faster  gait.  "The  master  locked  up  everything 
when  he  went  away." 

The  young  man  did  not  slacken  his  pace  in  the 
least. 

"  Mrs.  Warren  must  have  the  keys,"  he  called 
back. 

"  Mrs.  Warren  has  gone  out,  sir,"  protested  the 
man,  nervously. 

"  Well,  she  will  probably  soon  return." 

"  No,  sir,  she  will  be  gone  several  hours.  She  has 
gone  to  Steinberg,  to  consult  the  doctor." 

This  was  exactly  what  Roland  wanted  to  know. 
Feeling  that  undue  haste  was  no  longer  necessary, 
he  paused  till  the  old  servant  could  reach  him. 

"  I  hope  Miss  Eva  is  not  worse,"  he  said.  And,  in 
spite  of  all  he  could  do,  he  looked  anxious. 

"  No,  sir,  not  specially,"  replied  Slocum,  thrown 


"I   AM    ROLAND,"    BAID    HE.  105 

off  his  guard  by  Roland's  familiar  manner.  "  She  is 
no  worse,  but  then  again  she  is  no  better,  and 
the  doctor  has  to  be  consulted  frequently.  He 
comes  here  twice  a  week,  but  Mrs.  Warren  had  not 
been  out  for  some  days,  and  I  think  she  wanted  the 
ride.  It  is  confining  for  her,  sir,  just  now." 

Roland  stood  for  a  few  moments  in  thought. 

*'  Where  does  she  keep  the  library  keys  ?"  he 
asked,  finally. 

"  I — I  think  it  will  be  better,"  stammered  the 
man,  "  if  you  will  wait  till  she  returns.  She  does 
not  like  to  have  anyone  go  into  the  house  when  she 
is  out." 

Slocum  had  no  sooner  said  this  than  he  quailed 
before  the  glance  that  met  his. 

"  When  I  want  your  advice,"  said  Roland, 
severely,  "  I  shall  probably  ask  for  it !  You  have  a 
great  deal  of  assurance  to  offer  it  unsolicited.  You 
know  where  the  keys  are  kept  as  well  as  you  know 
where  your  tongue  is." 

Feeling  that  he  had  done  all  that  could  be  required 
of  him,  and  reflecting  that,  after  all,  Mr.  Linnette 
had  given  no  positive  directions  in  the  matter, 
Slocum  began  to  make  the  most  profuse  apologies. 

"  Oh,  drop  that,"  replied  Roland,  shortly,  "  and 
tell  me  where  those  keys  are  !" 

"  I  think  Miss  Eva  has  them,  sir.     Shall  I  go — " 

"Yes,  when  you  are  asked  to,"  interrupted  the 
young  man,  stopping  the  servant  as  he  was  starting 
toward  the  mansion.  "And  let  me  tell  you  now, 
once  for  all,  that  I  will  not  stand  your  imperti- 


106  LOVE    AT    SEVENTY. 

nence.  Show  me  where  I  can  find  Miss  Eva,  and 
then  return  to  your  duties." 

The  old  man  was  plunged  into  new  alarm.  While 
it  was  true  that  no  directions  had  ever  been  given 
upon  the  subject,  he  knew,  by  that  unspoken  and 
unwritten  law  on  which  tradition  is  based,  that  no 
person  ought  to  make  his  way  in  such  a  manner  into 
Miss  Warren's  presence.  Teachers  had  always  been 
piloted  through  the  house,  and  not  even  her  phy- 
sicians had  been  permitted  to  meet  her  unchaper- 
oned. 

Slocum  felt  that  his  situation  might  depend  on 
this  unlucky  dilemma,  and  yet  he  saw  no  way  to 
escape  from  it.  More  sternly  than  before,  Roland 
demanded  in  what  part  of  the  house  he  might  expect 
to  find  Miss  Eva. 

The  old  man,  in  great  perturbation,  began  to  move 
slowly  toward  the  dwelling. 

"  No,  I  will  not  trust  you,"  said  Roland.  "  You 
had  as  lief  report  some  invention  of  your  own  as  the 
truth.  Go  back  to  your  lodge.  I  will  ring  the 
house-bell  myself." 

Glad  to  escape  at  any  cost,  Slocum  limped  away, 
and  Roland  proceeded  up  the  walk  toward  the  front 
door. 

Before  he  reached  the  edifice,  however,  a  young 
girl  came  forth  unattended.  It  was  the  vision  which 
for  so  long  had  haunted  his  waking  and  sleeping 
hours. 

Seeing  a  stranger,  the  girl  paused  and  seemed 
about  to  retreat ;  but  he  pressed  eagerly  forward. 

"  I  am  Roland  Linnette,"  said  he. 


"l    AM    ROLAND,"    SAID   HI.  107 

"Why,  so  you  are,"  was  the  reply,  delivered  in  a 
voice  of  wonderful  sweetness. 

Then,  without  more  ado,  she  came  to  meet  him, 
and  as  frankly  as  an  old  friend,  put  her  hand  m 
bis. 


108  IX>VI    AT   SEVENTY. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

A    PARAGON    OF    INNOCENCE. 

Miss  Eva,  though  eighteen  years  of  age,  looked 
considerably  younger,  on  account  of  the  illness  from 
which  she  suffered.  She  appeared  more  like  a  child 
than  a  young  lady,  and  her  manner  completely 
charmed  the  young  man  who  had  made  such  an 
effort  to  see  her. 

"You  speak  as  if  you  had  met  me  before,"  said  he, 
as  soon  as  the  first  greetings  were  over. 

"  I  saw  you — once,"  she  replied.  "  You  were  talk- 
ing with  old  Mr.  Butler,  out  there  in  the  road. 
"One  of  the  domestics  told  me  who  you  were; 
and  besides,  there  is  a  large  picture  of  you  in  your 
uncle's  room,  which  I  have  often  looked  at." 

In  his  uncle's  room  !  She  was  evidently  on  pretty 
familiar  terms  with  her  mother's  employer. 

"  That  picture  was  painted  a  very  long  while  ago,'* 
he  responded.  "  It  can't  look  much  as  I  do  now." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  does.  And  I've  heard  a  great  deal 
about  you." 

He  bent  upon  her  his  brightest  glance. 

"What  have  you  heard  about  me  ?"  he  queried. 

"  Why,  I  know  that  you  have  been  a  great  traveller, 
and  that  you  are  staying  at  the  hotel,  and — but 
won't  you  come  into  the  house  ?  I  can't  remain  out 
long  on  account  of  the  dampness." 


A   PARAGON    OF   INNOCENCE.  109 

He  accepted  the  invitation,  though  much  surprised 
to  receive  it.  This  young  girl  had  not  been  brought 
up  so  very  strictly,  or  she  would  have  declined  to 
meet  him  thus  alone. 

"  I  have  been  in  Montvale  two  months,"  he  said, 
when  they  were  seated.  "  I  suppose  you  think  it 
strange  that  I  have  not  called  here  sooner." 

She  shook  her  head  smilingly. 

"  No,  I  did  not  expect  you  at  all." 

"  That  requires  an  explanation.  Didn't  you  know 
this  was  the  home  of  my  childhood,  in  fact  the  only 
place  which  could  be  called  a  home  that  I  have  ever 
known  ?" 

Miss  Eva  bowed  thoughtfully. 

"  Yes,  I  knew.  When  I  first  came  here  your  uncle 
was  always  talking  of  you.  He  read  a  great  many 
of  your  letters  to  me.  At  that  time  he  seemed  so 
wrapped  up  in  you  that  I  thought  he  would  soon 
send  for  you  to  return." 

A  contemplative  sigh  escaped  from  the  listener. 

"  But  he  never  did,"  said  he.  "  I  was  gone  more 
than  three  years,  and  he  seemed  to  get  along  with- 
out me  very  well." 

"  Yes,"  assented  the  girl.  "  He  got  reconciled  after 
a  while.  We  can  get  used  to  anything  in  time,  I 
think." 

He  could  not  help  uttering  the  thought  that  was 
uppermost  in  his  mind. 

"  And  he  had  you  to  help  him,  you  know." 

"Yes,"  she  said,  with  a  bright  smile.  "He  had 
me,  then." 

Was  ever  a  girl  of  her  age  so  childlike  !     She  had 


110  LOVE   AT    SEVENTY. 

stepped  into  his  place  in  the  uncle's  regard,  and 
talked  as  if  he  ought  to  be  rather  pleased  to 
hear  it. 

"  They  tell  me  you  are  not  well,"  he  said,  with  a 
touch  of  anxiety  in  his  tone.  "  What  seems  to  be 
the  matter  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  The  doctors  don't  know,  either, 
though  I  have  had  a  dozen  of  them.  But  I'll  tell 
you  what  I  think.  It  is  too  dreary  for  me  here,  see- 
ing the  same  things  and  doing  the  same  things  day 
after  day.  I  need  something  to  excite  my  mind,  to 
stir  my  blood.  Your  uncle  has  tried  to  do  every- 
thing for  me.  Before  I  had  been  here  a  month  he 
bought  me  a  pony  to  ride  ;  but  when  I  am  on  his 
back  I  have  nowhere  to  go.  They  don't  like  to  let 
me  outside  the  grounds.  It  is  very  dull,  cantering 
through  the  same  roads  and  back  again.  Then  I 
have  my  language  teachers,  and  music  masters,  and 
I  get  so  tired  of  them  !  If  I  was  ever  to  put  their 
teaching  to  any  use  it  would  be  different,  but  every- 
one tells  me  I  must  do  nothing,  that  I  am  to  be  a 
lady,  and  it  all  seems  so  selfish.  I  am  not  really 
sick.  There  is  no  pain  in  me  anywhere,  unless  it  is 
here,  at  my  heart,  like  that  of  a  prisoned  bird  that 
pines  to  escape  from  the  gilded  cage  that  is  kill- 
ing it." 

She  clasped  her  hands  over  her  left  side,  emphasiz- 
ing the  expression. 

"Does  my  uncle  kaow  how  you  feel  ?"  he  asked, 
breathlessly. 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  could  not  talk  to  him  as  I  am  talking 
to  you.  Indeed,  I  hav«  never  said  as  much  before, 


A   PARAGON    OF   INNOCENCE.  Ill 

not  even  to  my  mother.  Something  betrayed  me 
into  it,  for  which  I  cannot  account.  Perhaps  it  was 
because  I  have  envied  so  much  your  opportunities  to 
travel,  to  know  what  the  world  is  by  actual  observa- 
tion. I'm  afraid  my  chief  sin  is  that  of  envy.  Why, 
I  envy  even  the  servants  in  this  house,  who  have  their 
regular  afternoons  when  they  can  go  out  alone,  with- 
out giving  an  account  of  every  moment.  I  have 
actually  dreamed  of  running  away,  to  become  a  happy 
shop-girl,  or  to  ask  alms  in  the  street,  for  the  very 
beggars  have  more  freedom  than  I." 

What  a  wild  idea  to  enter  the  brain  of  that  child  i 

"  If  you  are  to  be  a  lady,"  said  Roland,  thought- 
fully, "  you  must  take  the  trammels  of  your  position 
along  with  its  advantages." 

The  girl  laughed  softly. 

"  But  I  did  not  ask  for  any  of  these  things.  Though 
we  were  very  poor  when  we  came  here,  I  was  con- 
tented. We  had  only  two  gowns  apiece,  but  that  was 
quite  enough.  Mr.  Linnette  insists  on  all  these 
extra  expenses,  and  I  wish  so  much  that  he  wouldn't. 
I  can't  make  mother  understand  the  way  I  feel  about 
it.  She  says  it  is  very  hard  for  a  woman  to  earn  a 
living  who  has  only  herself  to  rely  upon.  But  I  had 
rather  live  like  a  gipsy  than  the  way  we  do." 

Roland  was  getting  information  with  a  vengeance. 
It  was  evident  that  his  uncle  had  practically  adopted 
this  girl  and  her  mother.  He  began  to  wonder  if  a 
new  will  had  been  made,  entitling  them  to  a  large 
share  in  the  estate  which  was  to  have  been  his.  Not 
a  hateful  sensation  came  with  the  thought,  however  ; 
only  astonishment  that  the  staid  old  bachelor  could 


112  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

have  had  his  heart  so  much  affected  by  anything  in 
the  shape  of  womankind. 

"  My  uncle  did  not  intend  I  should  know  you 
were  here,"  he  said,  exchanging  confidence  for  con- 
fidence. "  I  only  learned  by  accident  that  he  had 
changed  housekeepers.  When  he  met  me  at  New 
York,  after  my  return  from  abroad,  he  suggested 
that  I  should  go  to  the  hotel  when  I  came  to  Mont- 
vale.  And  as  soon  as  I  arrived  in  town  he  had  his 
gates  closed  and  locked,  as  if  you  were  some  crim- 
inal that  I  might  assist  to  freedom." 

"That  is  very  odd,"  commented  the  girl,  with  her 
astonishing  frankness.  "Very  odd,  indeed,  when 
people  used  to  say  that  he  intended  you  to  marry 
me." 

The  statement  nearly  took  the  young  man's 
breath  away.  There  was  no  change  in  Eva's  voice 
or  manner  as  she  uttered  it.  She  spoke  as  if  the 
idea  was  the  most  ordinary  one  imaginable. 

"  People  used  to  say  that,  did  they  ?"  he  managed 
to  repeat. 

"  Yes.     It  seemed  to  be  generally  understood." 

"  But  they  don't  say  it  any  more  ?"  he  ventured, 
interrogatively. 

"  N-no,"  she  replied,  regretfully.     "  Not  lately." 

He  noticed  the  tone  in  which  she  uttered  this, 
and  thought  it  about  time  to  say  something  humor- 
ous. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  sorry,"  he  remarked,  smiling. 

"  Well,  I  knew  I  should  like  you.  When  I  heard 
them  talking  in  that  way  I  used  to  go  and  look  at 
your  picture.  '  If  he  marries  me,'  I  thought,  '  he 


A  PARAGON  OF  INNOCENCE.  113 

will  take  me  away,  and  I  shall  be  glad  of  that.'  Of 
course,  a  married  woman  has  more  freedom  than  a 
young  girl." 

In  all  his  travels  he  had  never  heard  anything  half 
so  entertaining. 

"  It  is  rather  a  pity,"  he  said,  with  a  smile,  "  that 
the  gossips  who  outlined  your  fortune  should  not 
have  carried  it  to  completion." 

With  her  face  as  sober  as  ever,  she  seemed  to 
entirely  agree  with  him.  He  resolved  on  a  bold 
stroke. 

"  Eva,  do  you  like  me  still  ?" 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Roland." 

He  leaned  toward  her,  with  his  most  bewitching 
expression. 

"  Prove  it,  then,  by  giving  me  a  kiss." 

She  reddened  a  little  for  the  first  time. 

"  If  you  were  going  to  marry  me  I  would,"  she 
said.  "  I  should  not  like  to  have  two  men  in  the 
world  who  had  kissed  me." 

He  was  so  dumbfounded  by  her  manner  that  for 
a  moment  he  did  not  know  what  to  do.  All  that 
had  been  said  was  evidently  of  the  utmost  serious- 
ness to  her. 

"It  would  hardly  do  for  me  to  marry  against  the 
wishes  of  my  uncle,  upon  whom  I  rely  for  every- 
thing," he  remarked,  tentatively. 

The  color  faded  from  the  fair  cheek. 

"We  could  not  marry  without  his  consent — could 
we  ?"  he  insisted. 

She  fixed  her  innocent  eyes  intently  upon  him. 

"  Not  unless  we  ran  away,"  she  replied,  slowly. 


114:  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

"  Would  you  leave  everything,  your  home,  your 
mother,  all — for  me  ?"  he  cried,  astounded. 

Her  femininity  was  asserting  itself.  Her  eyes  had 
left  his  face  and  were  gazing  at  the  carpet. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  in  a  voice  scarcely  audible. 

As  he  looked  at  her  the  full  knowledge  of  his 
vacillating  nature  swept  across  his  brain.  He  was 
"  in  love,"  of  course.  But  he  had  been  as  much  in 
love  many,  many  times,  and  had  awakened  to  find 
his  passion  at  an  end.  He  resolved  to  use  a  little 
more  sense  with  this  girl,  for  Willard  Linnette 
might  not  be  a  good  man  to  trifle  with. 

"There  are  many  things  to  think  of,"  he  said,  in 
a  grave  voice.  "  I  like  you  very  much,  and  I  want 
to  see  you  often,  that  we  may  talk  this  over.  You 
are  such  a  prisoner  that  we  shall  have  to  invent  some 
method  of  communication.  Have  you  no  servant 
who  can  be  bribed  ?" 

Miss  Eva  looked  pleased  at  the  suggestion  that  he 
would  meet  her. 

"  There  are  none  of  them  who  would  take  your 
money,  I  am  sure,"  she  answered,  "but  Charlotte 
(she  is  my  maid)  would  do  anything  I  asked.  There 
is  a  rear  door  in  the  high  wall  that  is  very  seldom 
used,  and  to  which  I  have  a  key.  Would  you  mind 
coming  at  a  very  late  hour,  when  everyone  else  is 
a-bed  ?" 

The  innocence  of  the  face  she  turned  toward  him 
was  a  marvel.  It  surpassed  anything  he  had  ever 
seen  or  heard  of.  To  meet  such  a  Juliette  in  the 
manner  she  described  was  like  a  chapter  from  a 


A   PARAGON    OF    INNOCENCE.  115 

Story  book.  Whatever  the  risks  involved  Roland 
Linnette  was  not  the  man  to  refuse  this  invitation. 

"  I  will  come  at  any  hour  you  wish,"  he  responded. 
"  Only,  be  very  careful.  There  must  be  no  doubt  of 
your  maid's  fealty,  nor  of  her  thorough  judgment." 

The  next  half  hour  was  spent  on  details,  which 
were  satisfactorily  arranged.  Eva  called  Charlotte, 
who  gave  evidence  of  being  wholly  devoted  to  the 
service  of  her  mistress.  A  way  in  which  notes  could 
be  exchanged — the  first  thing  of  importance — was 
provided  for.  Then,  remarking  that  risk  enough 
had  been  run  on  the  present  occasion,  Roland  parted 
from  the  two  girls  and  sought  the  library,  in  order 
to  carry  out  the  pretense  with  which  he  had  entered 
the  house. 

As  he  expected,  he  found  the  room  Bpen,  notwith- 
standing the  fable  that  Slocum  had  invented.  The 
rows  of  volumes  familiar  to  his  boyish  eyes  began 
to  interest  him,  and  he  was  soon  seated  in  one  of 
the  leather-covered  chairs,  engrossed  in  pages  that 
he  had  read  long  years  before — the  "  Adventures  of 
Gil  Bias  of  Santillane."  Delighted  to  con  again 
that  masterpiece  of  fiction,  especially  as  he  had  since 
reading  it  visited  many  of  the  places  described  by 
Le  Sage,  he  did  not  hear  the  opening  of  a  door,  nor 
see  a  man's  form  enter.  It  gave  him  quite  a  shock 
when  he  looked  up  from  the  page  he  was  reading, 
and  saw  his  uncle  standing  within  a  yard  of  him. 

"  Why  !  How  long  have  you  been  here  ?"  he  ex- 
claimed, rising,  and  speaking  nervously.  "  I  did  not 
hear  a  sound." 

Willard  Linnette  did  his  best  to  conceal  the  anx- 


116  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

iety  he  felt.  He  had  just  left  Slocum,  who  had  told 
him  of  the  young  master's  persistence  in  entering 
the  house,  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts  to  dissuade  him. 
He  would  have  given  a  good  deal  to  know  whether 
Roland  had  seen  Eva,  but  there  was  no  way  to  find 
out  except  by  asking  one  of  them,  which  he  was  too 
proud  to  think  of  doing. 

"  I  have  just  arrived  from  New  York,"  was  the 
quiet  answer.  "  Business  detained  me  longer  than  I 
expected." 

Roland  could  see  that  his  uncle  was  troubled,  but 
he  affected  not  to  notice  it.  As  Mr.  Linnette 
remained  standing,  he  considered  this  a  hint  that  he 
had  best  be  going. 

"  Let  me  take  a  few  of  these  books,"  he  said, 
picking  up  several.  "  I  will  send  them  back  when  I 
have  finished  them.  It  almost  renews  my  boyhood, 
to  see  these  dear  old  authors  again." 

Mr.  Linnette  bowed. 

"It  is  nearly  time  for  supper,"  he  said,  constrain- 
edly. "Won't  you  remain  and  take  the  meal  with 
me  ?" 

"  No,  thank  you,  unless  you  are  particular,"  re- 
plied the  nephew,  realizing  that  a  refusal  was  the 
better  part  of  judgment.  "  Hanson  expects  me." 

The  manufacturer  was  growing  relieved.  He 
began  to  feel  certain  that  no  meeting  between  the 
young  people  had  taken  place. 

"As  you  like,"  said  he.  "  By-the-way,  have  you 
decided  how  much  longer  you  will  remain  at  Mont- 
vale  ?" 

It  was  as  plain  as  if  the  words  had  said  it  that 


A  PARAGON  OF  HWOOENCE.  117 

Willard  Linnette  would  not  regret  the  day  when  his 
nephew  turned  his  back  on  the  village.  The  young 
man  felt  a  severe  wound  to  his  amour propret  but  he 
was  too  much  master  of  himself  to  show  it. 

"  1  would  rather  leave  that  to  you,  sir,"  he  answered, 
dutifully.  •'  I  must  admit  there  is  more  going  on  in 
the  way  of  entertainment  at  New  York  than  here. 
If  it  is  quite  the  same  to  you  I  shall  run  on  there 
within  a  few  weeks  ;  though  I  can  return  at  any  time, 
should  you  desire." 

A  few  weeks  !  Mr.  Linnette  wondered  what  was 
the  reason  for  this  delay,  but  he  could  not  lessen  the 
time  without  exciting  suspicion.  There  seemed 
nothing  more  to  say,  and  the  relations  parted  at  the 
door. 

When  Roland  reached  the  hotel  he  was  met  with 
the  startling  announcement  that  Miss  Arlinehad  left 
suddenly, giving  no  intimation  as  to  where  she  would 
make  her  future  home. 

He  made  no  comment  upon  this  news,  but  young 
Dalton  received  it  with  consternation,  when  he 
returned  from  his  work. 

"  I  am  afraid  this  means  something  disagreeable," 
Guy  said  to  his  friend,  when  he  had  deliberated  for 
a  long  time  upon  the  matter. 

"  D — n  it,  yes  !  It  means  Giddings  to  wait  on 
me  !"  was  the  only  reply  that  Roland  vouchsafed. 

He  did  not  intend  to  convey  his  suspicions  to  any- 
one else  at  present,  but  he  was  as  certain  as  that  he 
breathed  that  Willard  Linnette's  hand  was  in  this 


118  LOVE   AT   SEVEMTY. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

t 

PLAYING     A     GAME     OF     CHESS. 

i 

The  second  evening  after  the  day  when  Mr.  Lin- 
nette,  Sr.,  came  home,  he  was  sitting  in  the  library 
where  he  had  met  his  nephew,  and  this  time  he  had 
old  Tom  Hobbs  as  his  companion.  Hobbs  was 
occupied  in  puffing  clouds  of  smoke  from  his  pipe, 
after  his  usual  fashion,  and  a  chess  board  that  had 
served  them  for  a  quarter  century  stood  between 
the  two  men. 

"  Do  you  suppose  Roland  came  here  for  anything 
but  to  get  those  books  ?"  asked  Mr.  Linnette,  paus- 
ing between  the  moves. 

"  Shouldn't  wonder,"  responded  Hobbs,  mechani- 
cally. "  What  if  he  did  ?" 

The  instrument  maker  made  his  next  play  with 
caution. 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  have  them  meet,"  he  replied. 

«  Why  not  ?" 

"  That's  a  queer  question,  to  come  from  you." 

Hobbs  looked  up  sharply  from  the  chess  board. 

"  You've  done  everything  you  could  to  prepare 
her  for  him,"  he  said,  vehemently.  "  Getting  a  little 
doubtful  of  your  own  work,  are  you  ?" 

"I'm  afraid  Roland  is  not  good  enough  for  her," 
replied  Linnette,  deliberately. 

Hobbs  snorted  in  disgust. 


PLATING    A   GAME   OF   CHEB8.  119 

"  Good  enough  !"  he  echoed.  "  He's  good  enough 
to  be  your  brother's  son,  that's  all  you  need  to  know. 
I  call  him  a  very  decent  young  fellow.  What's  the 
matter  with  him  ?  It's  no  crime  that  he  doesn't  want 
to  buckle  down  to  business.  Every  other  generation 
has  a  right  to  take  a  lay-off,  if  it  can.  And  if  it's 
anyone's  fault,  it's  more  yours  than  his.  You  en- 
couraged him  to  keep  up  his  long  journey.  You 
know  why  you  did  it,  too." 

There  was  something  in  this  statement,  and  in  the 
manner  of  its  delivery,  that  made  Mr.  Linnette  for- 
get the  game  he  was  playing. 

"  Why  did  I  do  it  ?"  he  demanded,  pettishly.  "  You 
seem  to  ascribe  reasons  of  your  own  to  everything 
lately." 

Hobbs  pointed  out  the  fact  that  his  opponent  in 
the  game  had  not  taken  a  pawn  that  fell  to  his 
share,  and  then  made  his  next  move  adroitly. 

"  I've  a  good  mind  to  tell  you  why,"  he  said,  re- 
moving the  pipe  from  his  mouth.  "  By  Godfrey, 
Will  Linnette,  you'll  need  a  guardian,  if  you  keep 
on  !  Roland  '  not  good  enough '  for  her,  indeed. 
Isn't  a  man's  flesh  and  blood  of  as  much  account  as 
the  children  of  his  hired  help  ?" 

Mr.  Linnette  controlled  himself  with  an  effort. 

"Never  mind,  he's  going  away  in  a  few  days,"  he 
said.  "  You  didn't  used  to  be  so  favorable  to  a 
match  between  them,"  he  added,  pointedly. 

"  No,  nor  I  don't  favor  it  now  !"  snapped  Hobbs. 
"  It's  only  when  you  talk  as  if  the  '  goodness'  was  all 
on  one  side — as  if  that  housekeeper's  girl  would  have 
to  stoop  to  marry  your  nephew — that  you  stir  me 


190  LOVE  AT  BEVENTY. 

up.  I  told  you,  when  she  and  her  mother  came  here, 
that  they'd  get  around  you  till  you  wouldn't  know 
whether  your  soul  was  your  own.  And  now,  look 
at  it.  Roland  comes  home  and  is  sent  to  the  hotel, 
while  this  child,  no  relation  to  you  whatever,  gets 
the  cream  of  the  mansion.  I  tell  you,  Will  Linnette* 
you  ought  to  be  ashamed  !" 

The  other  player  made  a  very  ill-advised  move 
that  immediately  resulted  to  his  disadvantage. 

"You  say  a  good  many  things  when  you  get  to 
talking,"  he  answered.  "  You  never  heard  anything 
against  Eva." 

Hobbs  laughed  ironically. 

"You've  taken  fine  pains  to  keep  her  shut  up,"  he 
replied.  "  She  hasn't  been  allowed  to  go  outside 
the  gates  without  some  one  at  her  heels.  Do  you 
know  what  is  certain  to  follow  that  kind  of  treat- 
ment ?  If  she  gets  a  husband  who  gives  her  the 
least  freedom,  she  will  be  the  prey  of  any  man  who 
wants  her.  Why — " 

The  proprietor  of  the  house  rose  from  the  table 
and  spoke  in  a  stern  voice. 

"  That  will  do,  Tom  Hobbs.  You  can't  talk  that 
way  to  me  !" 

The  superintendent  of  the  Montvale  Optical  Com- 
pany did  not  seem  in  the  least  disturbed.  He 
merely  said,  "  Knight  takes  pawn  6,"  and  waited  for 
his  antagonist  to  go  on  with  the  game. 

"  No,  I  will  not  play  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Linnette. 
**  There  are  bounds  that  you  have  no  right  to  pass. 
You  have  hated  my  housekeeper  and  her  child  ever 


PLAYING    A   GAME   OF   CHESS.  191 

since  they  came  here,  for  no  better  reason  than  the 
contrary  spirit  that's  in  you.  Now,  when  it  gets  to 
making  insinuations  like  the  one  you  just  uttered, 
it's  got  to  stop.  Do  you  hear  me,  Tom  Hobbs  ?" 

The  superintendent  affected  to  be  engrossed  in 
the  condition  of  the  chess-men,  and  his  employer 
repeated  the  inquiry. 

"  Do  you  hear  me,  Tom  Hobbs  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  hear  you,"  responded  the  other.  "  But 
whenever  I  think  I  have  a  duty  to  perform  I  shall 
speak  out.  You  will  talk  till  you're  grayer  than  you 
are  now  before  you  put  a  chain  on  my  tongue,  when 
I  see  people  bamboozling  you  as  these  Warreras  are 
doing." 

Mr.  Linnette  was  in  doubt  what  to  say  next. 
However  unpleasant  the  words  of  his  old  friend,  he 
knew  the  motive  that  prompted  them  was  devotion 
to  his  interests,  as  Hobbs  understood  them. 

"Tell  me  one  thing,"  he  said.  "You  spoke  just 
now  about  my  keeping  Roland  abroad,  and  said  you 
had  a  good  mind  to  tell  me  why  I  did  it.  I  want 
you  to  explain  what  you  meant  by  that." 

"You  don't  want  anything  of  the  kind  !"  was  the 
ungracious  reply.  "  Come,  sit  down  and  make  your 
moves.  At  this  rate  we  shall  be  here  all  night." 

"  I  tell  you  I  do  want  it  !"  retorted  Linnette,  almost 
angry.  "  If  you  have  anything  to  say  to  me,  let  it 
out.  Anything  is  better  than  your  everlasting 
hints." 

Hobbs  realized  that  it  would  create  no  ordinary 
commotion  if  he  revealed  what  he  had  in  mind  when 
he  made  use  of  the  terms  referred  to,  but  his  dogged- 


122  LOTE   AT   SEVENTY. 

ness  was  not  proof  against  this  demand.  He  pushed 
the  table  away  from  him,  knowing  there  would  be 
no  more  chess  playing  that  evening,  and  after  draw- 
ing two  or  three  long  puffs  from  his  pipe,  he  took 
the  article  from  his  mouth. 

"  You're  an  old  fool,  Will  Linnette,"  said  he. 
"You'll  tell  me  I'm  wrong,  but  I  know  you  better 
than  you  know  yourself,  and  I've  been  watching  this 
thing  for  a  long  time.  Why  didn't  you  want  your 
nephew  at  home  ?  Why  did  you  keep  him  away 
from  your  house  when  he  came  to  Montvale  ?  The 
reason  is  not  a  very  creditable  one  to  a  man  who 
has  seen  almost  seventy  winters,  and  has  a  business 
reputation  as  a  fellow  of  common  sense,  but  it's  the 
real  one.  You're  in  love  with  that  little  girl, 
yourself  !" 

For  several  seconds  Willard  Linnette  looked  as  if 
he  was  going  to  strike  the  author  of  this  bold  declar- 
ation. He  raised  his  arm  and  clenched  his  fist, 
while  a  terrible  expression  convulsed  his  counten- 
ance. Hobbs  more  than  half  expected  that  the  blow 
would  fall,  but  his  sturdy  character  would  neither 
have  allowed  him  to  retreat  nor  to  make  any  effort 
to  parry  the  stroke.  Then  a  sudden  change  came 
across  the  face  of  the  optician,  and  staggering  to 
the  chair  he  had  vacated  he  dropped  weakly  into 
it. 

"Perhaps  you  haven't  gauged  the  extent  of  your 
own  feelings,"  pursued  Hobbs,  as  his  employer  gave 
no  sign  of  replying  in  words  to  his  accusation. 
"  But  it's  as  I  tell  you,  as  sure  as  you're  alive.  To 
put  it  plainly,  you  were  afraid  that  young  chap 


PLATING   A   GAME    OF   CHESS.  123 

would  excite  sentiments  in  her  heart  that  would 
lessen  her  affection  for  you,  and  you're  seventy,  and 
she's  eighteen  !  Her  grandfather,  if  he  were  living, 
might  be  about  your  age.  I  know  how  it  is — 
you've  lived  a  solitary  life,  and  she  has  twined  her- 
self around  you,  little  by  little,  until  you  don't 
understand  your  own  mind." 

The  seated  figure  made  a  clutch  at  the  air,  as  if  to 
save  itself  from  falling. 

"  It's  not  true !"  murmured  Linnette,  hoarsely. 
'*  I  love  her  as  a  daughter — no  more.  It's  not  true, 
Tom  ;  no,  I  swear  to  you  it's  not  !" 

Hobbs  had  no  idea  of  relenting  in  the  least. 

"  Why  don't  you  invite  him  here,  then  ?"  he 
queried.  "  It's  not  my  notion  of  the  way  to  dispose 
of  him,  mind  you,  but  you've  shown  in  a  hundred 
ways  that  it  is  yours.  Why  don't  you  have  him 
up  here,  and  let  them  get  acquainted,  and  watch  the 
result?" 

Mr.  Linnette  roused  himself  slowly,  like  one  who 
feels  the  first  effects  of  a  painful  injury. 

"  There  are  reasons  enough,"  he  answered,  faintly. 
"  Eva  is  not  well,  to  begin  with.  The  doctors  say 
she  must  avoid  every  species  of  excitement.  But 
there  are  other  things,  which  I  have  disliked  to 
mention  to  you,  because  Roland  is  my  near  relation. 
He  hasn't  the  kind  of  character  I  could  wish.  His 
experiences  have  given  him  a  light  opinion  of 
women.  I  sent  him  to  the  hotel  till  I  could  ascer- 
tain if  he  was  fit  to  associate  with  this  white  flower 
that  I  have  watched  so  tenderly,  and  from  what  I 
learn  I  fear  he  is  not." 


124  LOVE    AT  SBVEBTTT. 

These  words  came  with  difficulty,  and  there  were 
many  pauses  between  the  sentences.  Hobbs  had  a 
sneer  in  his  voice  and  on  his  face  as  he  replied  : 

"What  the  devil  did  you  learn?" 

"  I'll  tell  you.  I  told  Hanson  to  keep  an  eye  on 
him  and  to  report  everything  that  he  saw.  It  seem* 
there  was  a  very  pretty  servant  there,  upon  whom 
my  nephew  cast  his  eyes.  He  immediately  demanded 
that  she  should  wait  on  no  one  but  him,  and  has 
taken  his  meals  in  his  own  apartment,  with  her  for 
his  companion.  His  every  act  showed  that  he  was 
quietly  meditating  her  ruin.  Then  a  Miss  Giddings, 
who  assists  in  the  house,  found  an  immense  collection 
of  female  photographs  in  his  bureau,  some  of  them 
dressed  in  costumes  which  prove  the  depravity  of 
his  taste.  Knowing  these  things,  how  could  I 
introduce  him  to  such  a  child  as  Eva  ?" 

Tom  Hobbs  had  risen  and  stood  leaning  against 
the  mantel,  with  his  hands  in  his  trousers'  pockets. 

"  Hanson  is  an  ass  of  the  first  water  !"  was  his 
snappish  comment.  "  That  Giddings  is  a  scarecrow, 
who  was  probably  driven  to  inventing  lies  on  account 
of  jealousy  because  Roland  very  properly  preferred 
that  the  prettier  girl  should  attend  him.  Goodness, 
Will  Linnette,  I  never  should  have  thought  such 
things  of  you  !  Sending  the  boy  to  that  confounded 
hole,  and  then  putting  such  a  set  of  spies  on  him  ! 
Well,  what's  the  worst  they  found,  believing  all  they 
tell  you  ?  A  few  pictures  of  youth  and  beauty  that 
the  lad  would  have  to  be  blind  not  to  like,  and  a  con- 
versation with  a  waitress  over  his  chops  and  coffee  1 


PLATING    A   GAME   OF  CHESS.  125 

That's  all,  isn't  it  ?  They  don't  accuse  him  of  actu- 
ally doing  any  harm  to  the  girl  ?" 

Mr.  Linnette  was  very  haggard.  The  discussion 
was  wearing  heavily  upon  him. 

"She's  been  sent  away,"  he  said.  "  Hanson  had  a 
talk  with  her  and  gave  her  some  money  to  take  the 
journey." 

The  superintendent's  lip  curled  in  scorn. 

"  Where  has  she  gone  ?"  he  asked. 

*'  I  don't  know." 

"So,"  cried  Hobbs,  with  a  rising  inflection,  "to 
save  her  from  a  fancied  danger  you've  sent  her  where 
she'll  be  almost  sure  to  run  into  a  raz/one  !  You're 
a  very  moral  man,  jvv  are  !  If  any  harm  happens  to 
that  girl  the  blame  will  belong  at  your  door.  How 
do  you  know  but  he  meant  to  marry  her?" 

Mr.  Linnette  looked  incredulously  at  his  ques- 
tioner. 

"  She  has  neither  property  nor  family." 

"  Has  your  housekeeper's  daughter  either  of  those 
qualifications  ?" 

The  maker  of  instruments  paid  no  attention  to  the 
sarcasm  in  this  remark. 

"  Roland  has  not  evinced  the  least  interest  in  her 
fate,"  he  answered.  "  That  disposes  of  your  suppo- 
sition in  one  word." 

"  It  also  disposes  of  yours,"  smiled  Hobbs,  iron- 
ically. "  If  he  was  so  desperately  set  on  her  ruin,  he 
would  not  let  her  escape  him  so  easily." 

There  was  something  in  this,  certainly,  that  Mr. 
Linnette  had  not  thought  of,  but  he  replied  that 
probably  the  nephew  had  found  victims  too  plea- 


LOTE    AT    SEVENTY. 

tiful  to  feel  the  need  of  pursuing  one  in  the  man- 
ner  indicated. 

"Anything  to  fan  your  dislike,"  said  Hobbs. 
"  Where  that  boy  is  concerned  you  hare  no  leaning 
toward  the  merciful.  For  the  past  three  years, 
through  your  neglect,  he  has  had  no  tutor  but  him- 
self. If  he  has  found  amusement  in  looking  into  the 
eyes  of  a  pretty  woman,  now  and  then,  is  it  any- 
thing for  which  he  should  be  hanged,  drawn  and 
quartered  ?" 

Mr.  Linnette  was  silent.  He  seemed  too  exhausted 
to  debate  the  subject  any  longer. 

"You  say  the  housekeeper's  girl  is  not  well,"  con- 
tinued Hobbs.  "  I  shouldn't  think  she  would  be. 
You'd  be  an  invalid  yourself  if  you  were  fastened  up 
as  she  is.  There's  nothing  in  the  world  the  matter 
with  her  except  a  lack  of  something  to  interest  her 
mind.  Bring  your  nephew  up  here,  and  you'll  see  a 
difference  from  the  start.  Keep  your  eye  on  them, 
if  you  think  they  need  it — set  the  whole  household 
to  spying,  as  you  did  Hanson's  precious  crowd. 
But,  for  God's  sake,  don't  steel  your  heart  against 
one  of  the  best  boys  that  ever  wore  shoes,  a  young 
fellow  you  ought  to  be  prouder  of  than  anything 
else  you  own  !" 

The  lamp  in  the  room — gas  was  not  one  of  the 
luxuries  of  Montvale  at  that  period — had  been 
gradually  flickering,  and  had  at  last  gone  out.  The 
moon  was  full,  however,  and  its  beams  furnished 
sufficient  light.  Mr.  Linnette  showed  his  caller 
through  the  outer  gate  of  the  premises,  and  parted 
from  him  there  without  another  word. 


"THIS   ONE    I   MET   Ilf   TRIESTE."  127 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

"  THIS    ONE    I    MET   IN    TRIESTE. " 

As  it  was  apparent  that  Mr.  Linnette,  Jr.,  would 
probably  be  in  New  York  before  a  great  while,  for 
either  a  longer  or  shorter  period,  he  consulted  with 
Rufus  Hobbs,  the  cashier,  as  to  the  feasibility  of 
getting  young  Dalton  transferred  from  Montvale  to 
the  principal  office  of  the  concern  at  the  metropolis. 
Rufus,  who  had  never  grown  any  fonder  of  the 
young  fellow,  and  who  would  have  sent  him  flying 
without  hesitation  had  he  had  his  way,  was  glad 
enough  to  make  any  arrangement  which  would 
relieve  him  from  his  presence.  Correspondence  with 
the  main  office  soon  resulted  in  the  manner  desired. 
Guy  came  to  the  hotel  one  evening  positively  radi- 
ant with  joy  and  told  his  friend  of  his  good  fortune. 

"  It  is  better  than  anything  I  had  dreamed  of,"  he 
cried.  "  And  as  you  are  so  soon  to  be  there  we  shall 
not  be  entirely  separated  after  all." 

"You  must  have  very  uninteresting  dreams,"  was 
the  response,  "  if  you  see  anything  attractive  in  a 
seat  on  a  high  stool,  with  a  pen  in  your  hand,  figur- 
ing up  somebody  else's  profits  out  of  your  labor. 
What  salary  are  they  to  pay  you  ?" 

"  Twelve  dollars  a  week,  to  begin  with,  and  more 
Jn  a  short  time  if  i  give  satisfaction.  Is  it  not 
generous  ?"  .  .- 


128  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

"  Noble,"  laughed  Roland.  "  In  fact,  I  should  say 
magnificent  !  On  that  sum  you'll  be  able  to  live 
like  a  prince.  Over  on  Tenth  Avenue  there  are 
places  where  you  can  get  an  attic  bedroom  and 
something  they  call  food  for  seven  dollars,  which 
will  leave  you  five  to  squander  on  clothing,  amuse- 
ments, and  other  unnecessary  trifles." 

Guy  declined  to  be  disconcerted  by  the  tone  his 
friend  assumed. 

"  I  shall  do  very  well,"  he  said,  positively.  "  I 
know  all  about  attic  bedrooms  and  ordinary  fare, 
for  I  have  tried  them  before.  I  suppose  those  places 
you  speak  of — those  on  Tenth  Avenue — are  perfectly 
respectable  ?" 

"  Indeed  they  are  !"  was  the  humorous  reply. 
"  They  don't  throw  in  much  sin  at  that  price  in 
New  York.  That  comes  extra,  like  coffee  in  Paris. 
You  will  find  out.  It  takes  the  country  boy,  the  one 
with  high  purposes  and  great  ambitions,  to  sound 
the  depths  of  a  large  city.  If  I  should  be  a  month 
behind  you,  you  will  be  able  to  take  me  anywhere. 
Ah,  Guy,  what  an  awful  bad  lot  you  are  !" 

For  a  moment  the  younger  man  looked  troubled, 
but  the  prospect  before  him  was  too  bright  for  a 
cloud  to  remain  long  on  his  face. 

"  You  will  probably  discover,  before  you  have  been 
long  in  the  office,"  pursued  Roland,  encouragingly, 
"  that  you  are  receiving  a  few  dollars  less  each  week 
than  other  clerks  who  are  doing  the  same  kind  of 
work.  Of  course  you  will  not  mind  that.  You  may 
be  giving  more  faithful  service,  may  be  more  prompt 
at  your  desk  in  the  morning,  and  less  anxious  to 


**THI8    ONE   I   MET   IN   TRIESTE."  129 

leave  at  night,  and  yet  get  half  that  they  do.  A 
little  matter  like  this  would  never  breed  discontent 
in  such  a  head  as  yours.  No,  I  think  it  would  rather 
please  you  than  otherwise." 

Dalton  replied  brightly  that  he  should  not  con- 
sider it  his  affair  what  the  others  got.  He  should  do 
his  own  work  as  well  as  he  could  and  let  the  rest 
take  care  of  themselves. 

"  Just  what  I  said,"  replied  his  irrepressible  friend. 
"Do  that,  and  according  to  all  the  story  books  they 
give  boys  to  read  you  will  succeed  marvellously. 
You  start  without  a  single  bad  habit.  You  do  not 
drink  anything  intoxicating,  I  believe,  not  even  a 
goblet  of  wine."  He  lifted  a  decanter  as  he  spoke, 
and  filled  a  glass  with  sherry,  which  he  put  to  his 
lips.  "  That  is  an  excellent  thing.  (I  mean  the 
principle,  not  this  sherry.)  You  do  not  use  tobacco 
in  any  form  " — he  took  up  a  cigar,  and  contempla- 
tively bit  off  the  end — "which  is  also  to  be  com- 
mended. I  do  not  see  how  anyone — except  myself, 
of  course, — can  be  so  foolish  as  to  clog  their  brains 
with  the  vile  fumes  of  that  pernicious  weed."  He 
lit  the  cigar.  "Tobacco  (puff)  is  undoubtedly  a 
curse  (puff)  which  should  be  prohibited  by  statute. 
Our  ancestors  drank  wine  and  smoked  (puff)  and  we 
show  the  debasing  results  of  their  habit.  If  we 
should  quit  both  of  these  villainous  things  (puff, 
puff),  our  descendants  might  possibly  look  as  beauti- 
ful as  those  of  our  modern  temperance  spouters." 

He  held  the  cigar  contemplatively  in  his  hand,  as 
he  finished  the  sentence. 

44  But  the  greatest  reason  why  I  have  such  complete 


130  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 

confidence  in  you,"  continued  Roland,  after  blowing 
a  vast  quantity  of  smoke  in  rings  to  the  ceiling,  "  is 
on  account  of  your  exceedingly  correct  views  in 
relation  to  the  sexes.  You  must  know  I  was  joking 
a  few  minutes  ago,  when  I  intimated  that  a  residence 
in  New  York  might  undermine  the  most  beautiful 
trait  in  your  composition.  It  is  my  conviction  that 
you  will  be  absolutely  impervious  to  temptation 
which  endears  you  to  me  with  such  especial  tender- 
ness." 

Rising  from  the  chair  in  which  he  was  sitting,  the 
speaker  proceeded  to  take  a  collection  of  photo- 
graphs from  his  trunk. 

"  Here  are  some  of  the  women  that  made  my  life 
endurable  on  my  foreign  journeys.  How  can  I  look 
on  their  countenances  now  but  with  melancholy  ? 
From  every  one  is  reflected  the  accusing  glance,  the 
questioning  eyelid,  the  trembling  mouth.  Be  thank- 
ful, my  dear  boy,  that  you  will  never  have  on  your 
heart  the  heavy  load  these  pictures  place  on  mine." 

It  was  impossible  to  tell  how  much  seriousness  and 
how  much  irony  there  was  in  these  expressions.  Guy 
could  not  help  a  natural  curiosity  which  led  him  to 
examine  the  collection. 

"  This  one  I  met  in  Trieste,"  said  Roland,  taking 
one  of  the  loveliest  from  the  group.  "  You  could  not 
imagine  a  prettier  creature.  I  was  in.  the  bloom  of 
my  youth  then  and  she  was  hardly  sixteen.  You 
know  the  women  ripen  earlier  there  than  here.  How 
well  I  remember  the  last  hours  I  passed  with  her  ! 
We  drove  to  a  resort  in  the  outskirts,  where  we  had 
supper.  She  took  rather  more  than  I  should  have 


"THIS   ONE    I   MET   IN   TRIESTE."  181 

advised  of  the  warm,  rich  wine  of  the  country.  As  we 
rode  back  in  the  early  morning  hours  she  lay  in  a  half 
stupor  with  her  fair  head  in  my  lap.  At  the  rear 
entrance  to  her  father's  house  a  faithful  old  duenna 
was  awaiting  us  with  some  alarm,  for  Papa  would 
have  made  it  unpleasant  for  all  concerned  had  he 
detected  us.  Just  before  we  reached  her  home  I 
aroused  her  from  sleep,  and  twining  those  arms — 
those  bare  arms  you  see  there — around  my  neck,  she 
vowed  that  nothing  should  ever  tear  us  apart.  As  I 
had  planned  to  go  away  on  the  early  morning  train 
I  could  not  very  well  coincide  with  this  view.  It 
required  all  my  powers  of  persuasion  to  induce  hef 
to  enter  her  abode — a  temporary  expedient — " 

"  Promising  to  return  ?"  interpolated  the  anxious 
listener. 

"  I  think  likely,  but—" 

"  Oh,  how  could  you  be  so  cruel  !"  cried  Guy. 
"  Or,  having  done  it,  how  can  you  have  the  heart  to 
tell  me  ?" 

Roland  feigned  surprise. 

"  I  think  I  acted  quite  praiseworthily,"  he  replied. 
"  Would  you  prefer  that  I  should  continue  taking  a 
young  girl  on  such  excursions,  with  no  chance  what- 
ever that  good  would  result  ?  I  thought  my  sudden 
departure  quite  creditable,  all  things  considered. 
But,  as  far  as  escaping  temptation  is  concerned,  I 
might  as  well  have  remained,  for  I  had  not  been  a 
week  in  Italy  when  I  met  this  one." 

He  took  the  picture  of  a  dark-eyed  beauty  from 
the  pack,  and  held  it  up  where  he  could  study  its 
exquisite  outlines. 


132  LOVE  AT    SEVENTY. 

"  I  shall  not  tell  you  her  story,"  he  said,  "  because 
you  are  such  an  unappreciative  listener.  It  was  much 
more  romantic  than  the  other.  Poor  Alma — 

He  was  interrupted  by  an  exclamation  from  Guy, 
who  took  another  picture  from  the  collection  and 
held  it  up  to  his  gaze. 

"  Here  is  one  that  should  not  be  put  in  such  com- 
pany !"  he  said,  with  feeling. 

It  was  a  photograph  of  Maud  Arline.  Roland  had 
placed  it  ingeniously  with  the  others,  in  order  to 
note  its  effect  on  his  companion, 

"  I  am  glad  you  found  that,"  said  he,  nonchal- 
antly, "  for  I  want  you  to  take  it  with  you.  It  is 
quite  likely  you  will  run  across  her  in  New  York — 
such  girls  often  gravitate  toward  the  large  cities — 
and  you  might  need  it  to  make  the  identification 
positive." 

"  Do  you  think  I  could  forget  her  ?"  asked  the 
other,  incredulously. 

"  Such  things  have  happened.  However,  if  you 
don't  care  for  the  picture,  you  may  leave  it." 

But  Dalton  had  already  placed  the  photograph  in 
his  pocket,  ignoring  the  outstretched  hand.  Roland 
laughed  roguishly,  and  turned  the  conversation  into 
other  channels. 

"  I  shall  not  stay  much  longer  at  Montvale,"  he 
said.  "  You  will  find  me  in  New  York  before  many 
weeks." 

"  You  must  be  anxious  to  see  your  father,"  sug- 
gested Guy. 

"  Oh,  very  I"  was  the  satirical  response.  "  Just 
about  as  anxious  as  he  is  to  see  me.  If  I  were  a 


aTHIS   ONE   I   MET  IN   TKIESTE."  1S3 

book  of  poems,  or  an  essay  written  by  some  famous 
man — himself,  for  example — I  might  interest  him. 
Being  only  a  son,  however,  makes  it  quite  a  different 
matter.  He  has  only  one  redeeming  quality  in  my 
eyes.  He  is  picturesque." 

Guy  looked  disappointed,  not  to  say  shocked,  at 
this  statement. 

"  It  is  the  truth.  He  once  sat  as  a  model  for  a 
painting  of  Benevolence.  Benignity  shines  from 
every  muscle  of  his  placid  countenance.  His  very 
beard  is  a  study  of  grace  and  generosity.  And  yet 
I  know  that  no  distress  could  be  so  deep  and  no 
agony  so  excruciating  as  to  stir  his  calm  eyes.  He 
writes  the  most  exquisite  articles  upon  philanthropy, 
and  if  he  had  a  million  loaves  of  bread  he  would  not 
give  a  crust  to  a  blind  beggar.  But  like  yourself, 
my  dear  Guy,  he  is  unquestionably  picturesque,  and 
to  that  extent  worth  calling  upon  occasionally." 

As  Roland  paused,  his  companion  said,  reproach- 
fully : 

"  Still,  he  is  your  father," 

"Yes,  unhappily.  But  I  would  rather  own  for  my 
progenitor  a  half-clad  tramp  who  did  not  know  where 
to  lay  his  head  or  to  find  his  next  meal,  than  such  a 
well-kept,  finely  carved  block  of  senseless  marble." 

There  was  moisture  in  Guy  Dalton's  eyes  as  the 
two  friends  waited  at  the  railway  station  the  next 
day.  Roland  was  affected  even  while  he  laughed 
and  said  that  tears  were  only  for  women. 

"  And  that  reminds  me,"  he  added,  feeling  the 
need  of  raising  his  spirits  by  a  witticism,  "  I  want  you 
to  be  sure  to  avoid  everything  that  wears  petticoats, 


134  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

for  therein  lieth  a  snare.  Of  course,  should  you 
happen  to  run  across  Maud,  you  will  try  to  ascertain 
why  she  left  here  so  suddenly.  Tell  her  I  thought  it 
very  shabby,  after  all  the  pleasant  hours  we  spent 
together.  Tell  her—" 

But  the  train  was  starting.  Guy  wrung  his  com- 
panion's hand  so  sharply  that  he  bruised  it,  and 
with  a  hasty  *'-  Good-by"  left  him  alone. 


CAUGHT   IN   THB  ACT.  135 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

CAUGHT    IN    THE    ACT. 

For  various  reasons  nearly  a  fortnight  elapsed 
after  the  meeting  which  Roland  Linnette  had  with 
Eva  Warren  in  his  uncle's  library  before  he  accepted 
her  invitation  to  enter  the  grounds  surreptitiously 
late  at  night.  She  had  not  been  as  well  as  usual,  for 
one  thing,  and  her  mother  had  remained  with  her  a 
good  deal.  The  impatient  lover  was  obliged  to 
content  himself  with  the  daily  missives  that  Char- 
lotte contrived  to  smuggle  to  him,  and  he  thought 
Montvale  duller  than  ever,  during  the  days  after 
Dalton's  departure.  At  last,  however,  a  time  was  set 
for  the  long-delayed  meeting.  He  was  to  wait  near 
the  wall  door  at  the  rear  of  the  mansion  until  after 
Eva  had  seen  Mr.  Linnette's  light  extinguished  and 
was  sure  Tom  Hobbs  had  finished  his  game  of  chess 
and  gone  home. 

The  habits  of  the  household,  as  the  girl  knew  from 
experience,  were  very  clock-like.  Mr.  Linnette 
seldom  remained  long  out  of  bed  after  the  departure 
of  his  regular  visitor.  Having  allowed  a  half  hour 
from  the  time  she  saw  the  light  put  out  Eva  sent 
Charlotte  to  find  the  anxious  watcher. 

All  the  innumerable  adventures  which  the  young 
man  had  experienced  seemed  to  pale  into  insignifi- 
cance in  comparison  with  this  one.  He  had  climbed 


1J6  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

by  a  grapevine  to  the  window  of  a  wealthy  beauty 
in  Sicily  ;  had  been  smuggled  disguised  into  the 
seraglio  of  a  great  official  of  Constantinople  ;  had 
barely  escaped  with  his  life  from  an  avenging  hus- 
band in  Japan  ;  but  this  escapade  possessed  a 
strangeness  equalled  by  none  of  the  others.  To  be 
prowling  around  the  walls  that  had  enclosed  his 
head  in  boyhood — walls  destined  to  be  his  own  in  the 
course  of  time  ;  to  creep  like  a  burglar  across  these 
well-known  walks  and  into  this  familiar  house  ;  to 
meet  in  this  manner  this  paragon  of  innocence  ! 

When  Roland  stepped  into  the  room  where  Miss 
Eva  was  waiting,  his  heart  knocked  so  loudly  against 
his  ribs  that  he  could  almost  hear  it. 

"  Well,  I  am  here,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  tuned 
to  the  most  musical  accents  of  which  he  was  master. 

Upon  conducting  him  to  her  mistress  the  maid 
had  retreated  into  the  hallway,  closing  but  not  latch- 
ing the  door  behind  her.  No  sooner  had  she  disap- 
peared than  Roland,  overcome  with  joy,  stretched 
out  his  arms  to  Eva. 

"  My  darling,"  he  cried,  in  tones  of  the  deepest 
passion,  "  will  you  now  refuse  me  that  kiss  which  I 
have  waited  for  so  long  ?" 

The  young  girl  seemed  quite  composed,  making  a 
marked  contrast  to  his  impetuosity. 

"  You  must  have  forgotten  what  I  told  you,"  uhe 
replied,  gently. 

He  caught  both  her  hands  in  his. 

"  That  you  would  only  kiss  the  man  who  1»  %  be 
your  husband  ?  Behold  him  !" 

She  hesitated  still,  regarding  him  intently 


0AUGHT  IN  THB  ACT.  137 

-•Do  you  swear  that  ?"  she  asked.  "  Do  you  swear 
that  I  shall  be  your  wife  ?" 

Only  a  minute  before  this,  the  young  man  had 
been  firm  in  his  resolution  not  to  say  anything  to 
commit  himself.  The  dependence  that  he  had  upon 
his  uncle  was  so  absolute  that  he  had  meant  to  be 
circumspect  in  his  words,  however  careless  his  con- 
duct might  appear.  But  he  was  intoxicated  with 
the  sweetness  of  the  creature  before  him,  and  to 
save  his  life  he  could  not  have  made  her  a  different 
reply. 

"With  all  my  soul !"  he  answered,  earnestly. 

Eva  waited  no  longer,  but  permitted  him  to  clasp 
her  in  his  arms  and  press  a  kiss  upon  her  lips. 

"  Have  you  thought  how  we  are  to  arrange  it  ?" 
she  said,  as  Soon  as  she  could  escape  from  his 
caresses. 

To  arrange  it  !  Her  thoughts  were  not  to  be 
turned  even  for  a  moment  from  the  subject  of 
marriage. 

"  That  will  be  all  right  in  time,"  he  responded, 
after  a  slight  pause.  "  For  the  present  is  it  not 
wisest  to  take  the  happiness  that  comes  to  us  and 
leave  all  difficult  problems  for  the  future?  Such 
meetings  as  this  ought  to  be  devoted  to  the  de- 
liciousness  of  love,  not  passed  in  sober  calculations 
how  to  escape  the  happiest  period  of  life." 

She  looked  slightly  troubled. 

"And  does  the  '  deliciousness  of  love'  end  with 
matrimony  ?"  she  asked,  in  her  ingenuous  way. 

"Why,  no,"  he  replied,  confused  for  the  moment. 
44  But  lovers  usually  like  to  prolong,  as  much  as  pos- 


138  LOVE   AT    SEVENTY. 

sible,  that  delightful  time  when  they  have  become  all 
in  all  to  each  other,  and  yet  are  unbound  by  legal 
ties.  In  our  case  there  are  a  hundred  barriers  to 
marriage,  which  must  all  be  broken  down  ;  to  our 
love  there  was  but  one,  and  that  Charlotte  and  her 
keys  has  easily  opened." 

Eva  showed  the  greatest  interest  in  every  word  he 
said. 

"  Are  there  really  so  many  barriers  to  our  mar- 
riage ?"  she  asked.  "Tell  me  what  they  are." 

"Well,  the  two  greatest,  perhaps,  are  my  uncle 
and  your  mother." 

She  brightened  at  this,  for  she  had  feared  that  his 
answer  would  reveal  some  terrible  obstacle  of  whose 
existence  she  had  been  unaware. 

"  Those  barriers  are  easily  surmounted,"  she  smiled. 
"My  mother  would  not  stand  in  the  way  of  any- 
thing I  insisted  upon.  And  as  for  your  uncle,  he 
has  no  legal  control  over  my  actions." 

Roland  wished  that  she  would  not  be  so  precise 
and  positive.  He  blushed  as  he  felt  that  he  could 
not  explain  his  own  situation  without  laying  himself 
open  to  the  charge  of  selfishness. 

"My  uncle  could  refuse  to  do  anything  more  for 
me  in  a  pecuniary  way,  which,  to  say  the  least,  would 
be  embarrassing." 

The  girl  knit  her  brows  and  relapsed  into  thought. 

"  You  could  earn  a  living,  could  you  not,  without 
his  aid  ?  I  supposed  any  man  of  education  and 
talent  could  do  that.  We  shall  not  need  much,  and 
I  will  gladly  do  all  I  can  to  help  you." 

She    looked    so   infantile,    as   she  uttered    these 


CAUGHT   IN   THE   ACT. 

words,  that  Roland  could  not  help  embracing  her 
again. 

"  I  wish,  with  all  my  heart,"  he  replied,  and  he 
had  never  spoken  more  earnestly,  "  that  I  had  been 
brought  up  to  do  something  useful.  To  tell  the 
truth,  Eva,  I  have  no  idea  how  I  could  turn  my 
slight  talents  into  bread.  If  all  else  fails,  my  dear, 
I  will  make  a  hercfulean  effort  to  convince  the  world 
that  I  am  a  much-needed  individual,  for  whom  it 
has  long  felt  a  keen  desire.  It  would  be  much  better, 
though,  if  we  could  convince  my  respected  relation 
that  he  ought  to  give  us  his  blessing." 

As  Eva  clasped  her  hands  behind  her  head  and 
leaned  back  in  the  arm-chair  she  made  a  very  pretty 
picture. 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  he  wont"  she  said.  "  He  seems 
to  care  very  much  for  me.  If  I  tell  him  I  love  you 
and  wish  to  be  your  wife,  I  think  he  will  want  me  to 
be  happy." 

She  was  so  hopeful  that  Roland  did  not  like  to 
disturb  her  serenity,  though  he  had  little  faith  in  her 
conclusions. 

"  I  sincerely  trust  you  are  right,"  he  answered. 
"  For,  if  he  does  not,  if  he  positively  opposes  us,  we 
shall  have  to  wait." 

A  pout  altered  the  expression  of  her  pretty 
mouth. 

"To  wait!"  she  repeated,  dismally.  "How 
long  ?" 

Roland  kissed  her  again,  thinking  her  more 
bewitching  than  ever. 

"  We  must  be  sensible,"  he  said.     "  Is  it  not  better 


140  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 

to  let  a  little  time  go  by,  during  which  he  mk^,  j£ 
induced  to  relent  ?" 

The  girl  did  not  take  kindly  to  this  suggestion. 

<(  You  don't  know  how  tired  I  am  of  my  humdrum 
existence,"  she  said,  wearily.  "  Oh,  I  want  so  much 
to  get  out,  to  go  where  I  can  see  the  world  !  If 
they  keep  me  shut  up  much  longer  I  shall  never 
live  to  be  your  wife." 

The  conversation  progressed  along  the  same  lines 
for  another  hour,  but  nothing  definite  was  reached. 
He  could  not  make  her  understand  why  he  was  so 
cautious.  Her  ideas  of  love  had  been  obtained 
entirely  from  certain  old-fashioned  novels  that  she 
had  found  in  the  big  collection  downstairs.  In  those 
romances  the  ardent  swains  dared  everything  to 
possess  their  sweethearts,  and  the  recalcitrant 
parents  and  uncles  invariably  relented  in  time  to 
make  everything  lovely  at  the  close, 

Before  Charlotte  came  to  let  him  out,  it  was 
understood  that  he  would  come  again  within  a  few 
days,  and  that  in  the  meantime  the  lovers  would 
exchange  letters  regularly. 

With  the  most  joyous  feelings  that  he  had  known 
for  many  months,  Roland  set  out  to  return  to  the 
Montvale  House.  He  had  only  gone  a  short  dis- 
tance, however,  when  a  most  unexpected  and  unwel- 
come f0rm  confronted  him  in  the  highway. 

For  a  few  moments  neither  the  uncle  nor  the 
nephew  uttered  a  word.  Roland  saw  that  his  even- 
ing's exploit  was  known,  and  from  the  set  expression 
on  Mr.  Linnette's  face  realized  that  he  had  little 
cause  to  hope  for  mercy. 


CAUGHT   IH   THB  ACT.  141 

"  I  am  a  straightforward  man,"  came  at  last  in 
hard  tones  from  the  elder  gentleman.  "  I  know 
where  you  have  been.  I  will  listen  to  no  explan- 
ations, for  nothing  can  palliate  your  offence. 
To-morrow  you  must  leave  Montvale,  and  never 
return  to  it  without  my  leave.  Under  no  circum- 
stances must  you  hold  communication  with  any 
person  dwelling  in  my  house.  You  rely  on  me  for 
your  income.  If  you  obey  me  you  will  continue  to 
receive  it  as  in  the  past.  If  you  do  not  " — here  Mr. 
Llnnette  made  a  significant  pause — "  you  may 
expect  nothing  more  from  me." 

A  thousand  thoughts  rushed  to  Roland's  brain 
during  the  delivery  of  this  speech.  All  that  he 
owed  this  man  ;  the  kindness  shown  him  from  his 
infancy  ;  the  sweet  face  and  figure  he  had  just  left ; 
the  hardships  experienced  by  those  who  are  penniless, 
as  shown  in  Guy  Dalton's  case.  He  did  not  dare 
begin  an  argument  with  his  uncle,  in  that  gentle- 
man's present  state  of  mind,  It  was  a  hard  choice, 
but  he  must  take  the  safer  way.  He  could  do  as  he 
was  ordered,  trusting  to  the  future  to  right  him. 

"  I  will  go,  Sir,"  he  said,  quietly. 

Mr.  Linnette  had  expected  a  different  answer.  He 
had  prepared  himself  for  harsh  expressions  and 
recriminations.  When  he  heard  his  nephew's  dutiful 
reply  he  could  hardly  refrain  from  embracing  him 
and  letting  forth  the  torrent  of  tears  that  struggled 
to  his  eyes.  But  he  restrained  himself,  and  the  two 
men  parted  without  further  parley. 

Early  the  next  morning  Roland,  with  all  his 
belongings,  took  a  train  for  New  York. 


142  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  NOW,  DON'T  SAY  YOU'RE  SORRY  !" 

jRoland's  feelings,  as  he  rode  toward  the  city,  were 
far  from  enviable.  Every  revolution  of  the  wheels 
under  his  car  was  taking  him  farther  and  farther 
from  the  one  he  loved  best.  He  believed  he  cared 
a  great  deal  for  Eva  Warren.  She  had  made  a  most 
vivid  impression  upon  his  ordinarily  fickle  nature. 
He  had  really  convinced  himself  that  he  was  to  find 
with  her  the  true  peace  of  mind  and  serenity  of  life 
that  comes  from  an  ideal  marriage.  She  had  led  him 
to  hope  that  his  uncle  would  consent  to  remove  the 
difficulties  in  their  way,  under  the  persuasive  elo- 
quence of  her  bright  eyes  and  sweet  voice.  Now 
everything  was  changed.  He  had  fallen  under  the 
displeasure  of  a  man  whose  power  over  his  income 
was  as  absolute  as  that  of  the  Czar  over  his  subjects. 
He  had  been  sent  away,  with  strict  directions  not  to 
return  under  the  direst  penalty. 

When  he  heard  his  sentence  he  accepted  it,  con- 
soling himself  with  the  belief  that  some  fortunate 
circumstance  would  eventually  intervene  to  save 
him.  He  had  to  admit,  however,  that  there  was 
very  little  clear  sky  on  his  horizon.  The  offence  of 
which  he  had  been  guilty  must  seem  upon  the  sur- 
face a  heinous  one.  He  had  no  reason  to  doubt 
that  the  very  blackest  suspicions  were  entertained  in 


"NOW,  DON'T  SAY  YOU'RE  SOBBY!"          143 

regard  to  his  conduct.  Should  this  be  the  case, 
how  unpleasant  Eva's  situation  must  be  !  It  was 
unlikely  that  Mr.  Linnette  would  take  any  pains  to 
explain  matters  to  her.  She  would  send  her  letters 
to  the  usual  place,  and  when  there  were  no  answers, 
Charlotte  would  make  an  investigation,  and  report 
that  the  man  who  had  professed  the  warmest  affec^ 
tion  for  her  so  short  a  time  before,  had  coolly  left  the 
place,  without  sending  a  word  to  explain  the  reason, 
or  an  address  to  which  she  could  write. 

Oh,  it  was  scandalous  !  Even  the  fear  of  being 
disinherited,  of  losing  the  immense  property  which 
his  uncle  had  accumulated,  could  hardly  dissuade 
the  young  man  from  leaving  the  train  at  the  first 
station,  and  returning,  at  any  risk,  to  the  girl  he  had 
deserted.  But  prudence  conquered  for  the  moment, 
and  he  decided  to  continue  his  journey  to  New 
York,  where  he  might  confide  the  whole  story  to  Guy 
Dalton,  and  see  if  together  they  could  find  a  way  to 
untangle  the  knot. 

It  was  on  a  holiday  that  he  reached  the  city,  and 
the  office  of  the  Montvale  Optical  Company  was 
closed.  As  he  did  not  know  Guy's  house  address, 
he  was  obliged  to  wait  until  the  next  morning  be- 
fore he  could  see  him.  Strolling  about  at  random 
during  the  afternoon,  he  happened  to  pass  through 
East  Ninth  Street,  where  he  encountered,  as  he  had 
often  done,  an  evidence  of  the  fact  that  this  world 
is  a  very  contracted  place.  On  the  sidewalk  a  little 
ahead  of  him  was  a  female  figure,  whose  outlines 
seemed  strangely  familiar,  and  he  was  not  long  ia 


144  LOTS  AT   SEVENTY. 

deciding  that  it  belonged  to  the  late  waitress  of  the 
Montvaie  House. 

The  pleasure  of  meeting  anyone  he  knew,  com- 
bined with  curiosity  as  to  the  sort  of  life  she  was 
now  leading,  induced  him  to  follow  her.  Fearing 
that  if  he  made  his  presence  known  too  soon  she 
might  decline  to  acquaint  him  with  her  place  of  resi- 
dence, he  lagged  in  the  rear  until  he  saw  her  enter 
a  dwelling.  Three  minutes  later  he  rang  the  bell. 
The  girl  who  answered  his  summons  directed  him  to 
a  room  up  two  flights  of  stairs,  leaving  him  to  make 
his  own  way  to  that  locality. 

"Now,  don't  say  you're  sorry  to  see  me  !"  he  ex- 
claimed, the  expression  with  which  he  was  received 
giving  rise  to  this  suspicion.  "  Why,  you  don't  even 
ask  me  to  enter." 

At  this,  Maud,  who  had  stood  stock  still  in  her  sur- 
prise, moved  to  one  side  and  allowed  rather  than 
invited  him  to  pass  in. 

"  Let  me  quiet  your  fears  at  once,  if  you  have 
any,"  he  said,  in  a  sprightly  tone.  "  I  found  your 
abode  by  the  purest  accident,  in  fact  by  seeing  you 
on  the  street  just  now,  and  it  seemed  only  a  neigh- 
borly act  to  call.  I  thought  you  and  I  were  too 
good  friends  for  such  an  abrupt  leave  as  you  took  of 
me.  At  Montvaie,  which  I  left  yesterday  morning, 
no  one  seemed  to  have  the  slightest  notion  where 
you  were.  But  now  I  shall  learn  all  about  it.  What 
are  you  doing  in  New  York  ;  and  what  drove  you 
away  in  such  a  hurry  ?" 

He  glanced  hurriedly  at  the  furniture  as  he  spoke. 


"NOW,  DON'T  SA.T  TOU'KE  SORRY!"          145 

She  had  not  found   anything  very  luxurious,  at  all 

events. 

4  cloud  that  had  gathered  around  the  girl's  eyes 
deepened  at  his  question. 

"  I  came  away  because — because  I  thought  it  best. 
And  because  I  believed  I  could  earn  my  living  better 
here." 

"I  hope  you  have  succeeded,"  he  said,  kindly. 

"  Not  yet,"  she  told  him,  with  a  sad  frankness.  "  I 
find  there  are  many  others  as  much  in  need  of  work 
as  I.  Still,  I  am  not  discouraged.  I  shall  keep 
trying." 

It  requires  money  to  live  in  a  city,  even  in  the 
plainest  manner,  and  Roland  began  to  wonder  where 
she  had  obtained  enough  for  her  wants.  He  had 
good  reason  to  believe  her  purse  was  empty  when 
she  lived  in  Montvale. 

"You  must  be  well  provided  with  funds  to  be  able 
to  wait  so  long,"  he  said,  boldly. 

"  I — I  had  a  little,"  she  stammered,  much  con- 
fused. "It  does  not  cost  much  here." 

"But  the  little  it  does  cost,"  he  said,  with  sudden 
conviction,  "  comes  from  my  uncle.  He  sent  you 
away  for  fear  I  should  lower  his  great  name  by  con- 
tracting a  marriage  with  you  !  His  name  !  He  who 
has  wheeled  a  barrow  in  his  day,  shovelled  coal  and 
handled  a  pickaxe.  That's  where  the  money  comes 
from.  You  do  not  dare  deny  it !" 

A  tumult  raged  in  the  girl's  breast  as  she  heard 
him.  A  marriage  with  Roland  !  Could  such  a 
thing  have  been,  for  a  moment,  in  the  thoughts  of 
the  wealthy  manufacturer  ?  This  was  not  the  story 


146  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

that  Hanson  had  told  her,  when  he  pressed  the  bank- 
notes  into  her  hand  and  asked  her  to  leave  on  the 
very  next  train.  He  had  represented  that  a  scandal 
was  imminent,  that  their  close  relations  were  causing 
talk,  and  that  she  would  either  have  to  go  in  this 
quiet  way,  with  sufficient  funds  to  relieve  her  present 
necessities,  or  be  turned  out  ignominiously  in  the 
face  of  the  village. 

"  You  do  not  answer,"  said  Roland.  "  In  this  case 
I  shall  consider  that  silence  is  confession." 

"You  confuse  me  so  much  that  I  do  not  know 
what  to  say,"  she  responded.  "  I  never  dreamed  of 
meeting  you.  And — you  must  not  call  here  any 
more,  for — really — I  cannot  see  you." 

His  mind  was  too  full  of  Eva  now  to  mind  much 
this  rather  cool  dismissal.  For,  with  the  words,  Miss 
Arline  rose  from  the  chair  she  had  taken,  as  if  to  bid 
him  farewell. 

"I  shall  respect  your  wish,"  he  replied,  with  a 
smile,  "  though  I  think  you  would  be  wiser  to  con- 
fide in  me  a  little.  I  am  not  half  so  great  a  villain 
as  I  have  been  represented.  If  my  uncle  is  supply- 
ing your  purse,  and  if  he,  from  any  cause,  ceases  to 
do  so,  and  you  need  anything,  my  city  address  is  at 
his  office  on  Third  Street.  You  will  be  very  silly  if 
you  don't  let  me  know.  And,  let  me  tell  you,  though 
it  may  not  seem  encouraging,  the  chances  are  that 
you  will.  I  don't  suppose  you  have  a  relation  or 
acquaintance  in  town.  But,"  he  walked  slowly  out 
into  the  hallway  as  he  talked,  "  I  am  overstaying  my 
welcome.  I  wouldn't  care  so  much  if  you  hadn't  got 
into  this  scrape  on  my  account,"  he  added. 


"  NOW,  DON'T  SAY  YOD'BE  SORRY  !"          14:7 

The  girl  had  a  severe  struggle  with  the  conflicting 
^motions  which  these  expressions  brought  forth.  It 
was  true,  as  lie  surmised,  that  Mr.  Linnette  had  made 
a  bargain  with  her,  through  Hanson,  by  which  he 
was  to  send  her  what  money  she  needed  until  she 
could  obtain  a  satisfactory  position,  in  exchange  for 
which  she  was  never  to  see  or  speak  to  his  nephew. 
She  had  been  too  overwhelmed  at  the  landlord's 
accusations,  when  he  made  her  the  proposition,  to 
attempt  the  least  defence,  but  had  followed  his  sug- 
gestions blindly,  not  knowing  what  else  to  do.  She 
was  practically  penniless,  and,  though  Mr.  Linnette's 
money  almost  burned  her  fingers,  she  dared  not 
decline  it.  Her  main  thought  was  to  get  away  as 
quickly  as  possible, — away  from  Montvale,  away  from 
Roland,  away  from  all  those  people  to  whom  she  had 
become,  as  was  represented  to  her,  an  object  of 
distrust. 

By  some  mysterious  fate  the  person  she  had  prom- 
ised to  avoid  had  found  her  in  this  large  city,  on  the 
very  day  of  his  arrival,  and  without  effort  on  his 
part.  The  short  interview  she  had  had  with  him 
could  not  be  construed  as  a  violation  of  her  word  to 
Mr.  Hanson.  But,  should  she  have  given  such  a 
promise  ? 

"I  will  keep  your  card,"  she  said,  while  he  won- 
dered why  it  took  her  so  long  to  answer. 

"  By-the-way,"  said  Roland,  as  he  was  turning 
from  her,  "  our  friend,  Guy  Dalton,  is  here,  in  my 
uncle's  office.  Is  he  in  your  bad  books  as  well  as  I  ? 
If  he  isn't,  and  you  happen  to  run  across  him,  it  will 


148  LOVE   AT    SEVENTY. 

be  a  charity  to  give  him  a  kind  word.     He  always 
seemed  to  like  you." 

Then  he  went  out  upon  the  street  and  walked  to 
his  hotel.  The  next  morning  he  went  at  an  early 
hour  to  find  Guy,  and  arrange  a  lunch  together  at 
one  o'clock. 

"  How  happens  it  that  you  are  here  without  giv- 
ing me  the  least  warning?"  asked  Dalton  as  soon  as 
he  could  control  his  delight. 

"  Oh,  the  devil  is  in  it !"  was  the  response.  "  I've 
had  a  set-to  with  my  respected  uncle." 

"  Not  a  falling  out  !"  cried  Guy,  with  distended 
eyes. 

"  Something  mighty  like  it.  I'll  tell  you  every- 
thing at  noon." 

And  at  noon  he  did  tell  him  everything.  He  re- 
lated the  whole  Warren  episode,  from  beginning  to 
end,  concealing  nothing. 

"  Isn't  it  a  fine  kettle  of  fish  ?"  he  said,  at  the  con- 
clusion. "  I'm  in  a  condition  of  mind  to  kill  some- 
body. And  poor  little  Eva,  she  must  by  this  time 
have  voted  me  the  crudest  and  most  inconstant  man. 
If  I  wanted  to  mail  her  a  letter,  at  the  risk  of  my 
uncle's  wrath,  there  is  not  one  chance  in  a  hundred 
it  would  ever  reach  her.  Spies  are  undoubtedly  on 
the  watch,  ready  to  intercept  anything  addressed  to 
her  name.  Come,  old  man,  tell  me  what  to  do.  You 
ought  to  have  an  idea  in  that  head  of  yours." 

Guy  was  much  affected  by  this  recitation  of  his 
friend's  misfortune.  He  counselled  patience,  ex- 
pressing the  belief  that  Mr.  Linnette  would  not  long 
hold  himself  in  such  an  attitude  toward  his  nephew. 


"NOW,  DON'T  SAY  YOU'RB  SOBKY!"         149 

To  violate  the  quarantine  regulations  at  present 
would  be  merely  to  invite  ruin.  Nor  was  it  wise,  he 
added,  timidly,  to  underrate  the  financial  considera- 
tions. As  long  as  the  uncle  held  the  purse-strings, 
he  could  control  Roland's  conduct  as  readily  as  a 
pilot  could  handle  a  boat  through  the  tiller. 

"  But  you  don't  realize  what  a  burning  affection  I 
have  developed  for  that  dear  girl !"  cried  Roland, 
comically.  "  I  have  been  in  love  with  a  thousand 
women  and  never  really  had  my  heart  on  fire  till 
now." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  never  loved  any  of  them,"  was 
the  sober  reply.  "  It  is  not  so  very  long  ago  that 
you  seemed  wholly  wrapped  up  in  another  young 
lady." 

A  loud  laugh  greeted  this  statement. 

"  What,  the  pretty  little  Maud  ?"  he  replied.  "  She 
did  entertain  me,  in  that  frightfully  dull  Montvale, 
but*  I  don't  think  I  ever  meant  anything  serious. 
Even  if  I  had  I  could  not  but  see  how  little  chance 
there  was  for  me  after  she  caught  sight  of  you. 
And  that  reminds  me  that  you  must  run  over  and 
call  on  her.  She  lives  but  a  few  minutes'  walk  from 
here  and  would  welcome  you  warmly." 

"  Miss  Arline  !"  cried  Dalton,  rising  from  his  chair. 
"  She  is  here,  in  New  York  !" 

"  Exactly,"  smiled  Roland.  "  I  will  cheerfully 
give  you  her  address." 

The  younger  man  drew  several  long  breaths,  which 
he  emitted  slowly.  He  was  evidently  much  surprised 
by  the  news. 

"  I  do  not  understand,"  he  stammered.     "  You  say 


150  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

you   love  Miss  Warren.     Then  why  have  you  St.. 
Miss  Arline  here  ?" 

It  was  some  seconds  before  Linnette  could  grasp 
the  full  meaning  of  this  question. 

"  You  are  wrong  in  your  brilliant  surmise,"  he 
answered.  "  Miss  Maud  is  the  victim  of  another 
ridiculous  move  on  the  part  of  my  venerated  kins- 
man. He  had  her  sent  away  from  the  hotel  on 
account  of  a  silly  notion  in  relation  to  me.  I  learned 
of  her  residence  only  yesterday  afternoon,  and  then 
quite  accidentally.  Oh,  I  give  you  my  word  !  She 
is  of  no  use  to  me  now,  and  I  shall  take  great  pleas- 
ure in  passing  over  to  you  all  my  right,  title  and 
interest." 

Dalton  shrank  from  these  careless  expressions  as  if 
they  were  so  many  blows  upon  his  shoulders. 

"  Don't  speak  like  that !"  he  pleaded.  "  It  hurts 
me." 

"  Does  it,  really  ?"  asked  Roland,  looking  at  his 
companion  in  a  puzzled  way.  "Then  I  am  right, 
and  you  are  not  entirely  indifferent  to  the  girl.  You 
see,  I  saw  Maud  in  the  street  and  followed  her  home 
without  letting  her  know  she  was  watched.  When  I 
called  at  her  room  she  treated  me  with  the  coldest 
civility,  and  even  had  the  supreme  impertinence  to 
remark,  as  I  was  going  away,  that  she  did  not  care  to 
see  me  again.  Of  course  I  lay  all  that  to  the  lies — 
or  possibly  to  the  truths — that  Hanson  had  been 
hired  to  tell  her  about  me.  Whatever  the  reason, 
my  mind  is  now  too  full  of  my  newest  inamorata  to 
let  me  shed  many  tears.  As  I  am  barred  from 
Maud's  society,  and  as  she  is  entirely  alone  in  the 


"  NOW,  DON'T  SAT  YOU'RE  SORRY  !"          151 

city,  I  know  she  would  be  delighted  to  see  you  often. 
And  although  I  don't  think  I  am  much  to  blame  for 
her  present  situation,  I  would  like  to  hear  from  her 
occasionally,  and  even  render  her  assistance  if  she 
ever  needs  it." 

Guy  made  a  number  of  inquiries  in  relation  to 
Miss  Arline  which  his  friend  could  not  answer  posi- 
tively. All  he  knew  was  that  she  meant  to  secure  a 
position  of  some  kind  by  which  she  could  earn  her 
living,  and  he  had  no  doubt  that  Willard  Linnette 
was  supplying  her  temporary  wants. 

When  the  friends  separated,  Guy  had  in  his  pos- 
session the  number  of  the  house  on  Ninth  Street, 
and  that  very  evening  he  called  there.  Maud  did 
not  conceal  her  pleasure  at  the  sight  of  his  face,  and 
gave  him  a  very  different  reception  from  the  one 
Roland  found.  Before  an  hour  had  passed  the  last 
vestige  of  nervousness  had  disappeared  from  both  of 
them,  and  they  chatted  confidentially.  Guy  told 
how  pleased  he  was  with  his  place  in  the  Optical 
Company's  office,  where  he  had  been  promised,  with- 
out any  solicitation  on  his  part,  a  rise  in  salary  at 
fche  end  of  six  months'  service.  And  Maud  had  that 
very  day  made  an  engagement  with  a  milliner,  which 
would  give  her  almost  enough  to  live  on  in  the 
economical  fashion  she  was  practising. 

Though  intensely  anxious  to  learn  the  exact  con- 
nection of  the  elder  Linnette  with  her  affairs,  Guy 
did  not  think  of  questioning  her  in  relation  to  that 
matter.  He  was  sure,  whatever  it  was,  that  it 
reflected  no  discredit  upon  her.  When  they  parted 
it  was  with  an  understanding  that  he  would  call 


158  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

frequently.  The  next  evening  they  took  a  long  walk 
together,  and  within  a  week  had  dined  ensemble  at  a 
cheap  French  restaurant,  where  a  dinner  was  served 
for  forty  cents.  Several  days  later  they  had  even 
viewed  a  play  together  from  an  upper  gallery,  at  a 
cost  of  half  a  dollar. 

As  for  Roland,  he  took  rooms  in  a  swell  bachelor 
apartment  hotel  and  set  about  drowning  his  regrets 
with  the  aid  of  several  young  gentlemen  afflicted, 
like  himself,  with  too  much  spare  time  and  endowed 
with  a  sufficient  quantity  of  greenbacks.  He  was 
not  happy,  but  he  could  formulate  no  plan  to  get 
out  of  his  difficulties.  Theatres,  rides  in  the  park, 
and  such  light  entertainment  as  was  furnished  by 
one  or  two  clubs  which  he  joined,  helped  to  pass  the 
time  away.  Dalton,  whom  he  generally  met  at 
lunch  time,  still  counselled  him  to  have  patience, 
and  to  do  nothing  rash. 

"  How  much  patience  do  you  think  you'd  have,  in 
my  place  ?"  Roland  used  to  answer,  exasperated  at 
the  long  delay. 


PWOLB   AND  NKPHKW.  153 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

UNCLE      AND      NEPHEW. 

The  disappointment  felt  by  Eva  Warren  when  she 
received  no  answers  to  the  letters  which  her  maid 
left  for  young  Mr.  Linnette  was  not  over-estimated 
in  the  most  vivid  dreams  of  the  absent  one.  All  that 
Charlotte  could  learn,  when  she  made  a  tour  of 
investigation,  was  that  he  had  left  town  on  the  very 
morning  following  their  last  meeting.  The  two 
girls  talked  it  over  for  hours  at  a  time,  but 
they  could  not  account  for  the  circumstance.  Eva 
felt  intuitively  that  her  mother's  employer  had  had 
something  to  do  with  the  matter,  but  she  could  not 
ascertain  the  truth  of  her  suspicions  except  by 
direct  inquiry,  which  she  was  naturally  disinclined 
to  make.  It  was  incredible  that  the  ardent  lover, 
who  had  seemed  hardly  able  to  control  his  fond 
emotions,  should  have  taken  a  wilful  resolve  to 
desert  her.  She  believed  that  he  would  write,  at 
least,  explaining  every  thing.  But  a  fortnight  elapsed 
and  nothing  was  forthcoming. 

Eva  was  a  girl  of  naturally  strong  mind,  notwith- 
standing the  peculiar  moods  into  which  her  strange 
and  confined  life  had  led  her.  She  did  not  give 
vent  to  her  feelings  in  tears,  nor  did  she  lose  courage. 
When  it  was  apparent  that  Roland  did  not  intend  to 
explain  his  conduct  by  letter,  she  determined  to 


154:  LOTE    AT   SEVENTY. 

speak  of  him  to  his  uncle,  the  first  time  she  could 
find  the  latter  alone.  All  at  once,  however,  such 
opportunities  seemed  to  have  disappeared.  The 
senior  Linnette  became  visible  only  at  meals,  and  as 
her  mother  was  always  present  on  those  occasions, 
she  did  not  like  to  refer  to  the  subject.  Evenings 
Mr.  Linnette  spent  with  old  Tom  Hobbs  in  the 
library  as  formerly.  At  last  she  could  wait  no 
longer,  and  one  day,  at  dinner,  she  abruptly  broke 
the  ice. 

"  I  hear  that  your  nephew  has  left  town,"  she  said. 
"  Isn't  it  rather  strange  that  he  should  stay  so  long 
in  Montvale,  and  never  visit  you  here  ?" 

Mrs.  Warren  looked  up  in  a  startled  way.  She 
knew  that  Roland  had  been  to  the  house,  and  that 
he  had  talked  with  Eva  there.  Mr.  Linnette  had 
discovered  the  fact  of  their  meeting,  by  a  more 
thorough  questioning  of  Slocum,  and  had  thought 
it  wise  to  convey  the  information  to  the  girl's 
mother,  in  order  to  put  her  on  her  guard  against  a 
possible  repetition.  But  he  had  not  told  the  lady  of 
the  visit  Roland  made  to  her  daughter's  rooms,  and 
he  would  not  for  anything  have  had  her  learn  of 
it. 

To  Eva's  remark  he  answered  quietly,  having 
schooled  himself  to  expect  something  of  the  kind, 
that  his  nephew  was  master  of  his  own  movements, 
and  in  the  habit  of  selecting  his  places  of  residence. 

"Undoubtedly,"  responded  Eva.  "But  it  does 
seem  odd  to  me,  when  I  think  how  fond  you  used  to 
be  of  him — " 


«T*CLE    AND   NEPHEW.  155 

M  Used  to  be?"  interrupted  Mr.  Linnette,  without 
raising  his  eyes. 

"  Used  to  be,"  she  repeated,  with  added  emphasis. 
"  When  I  remember  that  he  is  the  only  child  of  your 
only  brother,  that  this  was  his  home  for  many  years, 
that  he  was  gone  abroad  a  very  long  time,  and  that 
on  his  return  you  have  not  had  him  here  once,  even 
to  a  dinner,  and  that  now  he  has  gone  away,  I  can- 
not help  being  very  much  surprised.  Pardon  me  if 
I  speak  too  plainly." 

Mr.  Linnette's  eyes  were  turned  affectionately  upon 
the  speaker. 

"I  will  pardon  you  almost  anything,"  he  said, 
gently. 

"  But,  if  this  is  your  fault,  I  will  not  pardon  you" 
replied  the  girl,  with  the  freedom  she  was  accus- 
tomed to  use  toward  him.  "  Do  you  know  what 
rumors  are  abroad  ?  It  is  said  that  /  have  taken 
his  place  here,  that  I  am  crowding  him  out  of  his 
rightful  position.  Such  gossip  is  not  pleasant  to 
me,  I  assure  you." 

The  manufacturer  was  evidently  much  disturbed 
by  this  remarkable  statement  ;  while  Mrs.  Warren 
fidgeted  uneasily  on  her  side  of  the  table,  afraid  to 
say  anything,  but  wishing  heartily  that  her  daughter 
would  select  some  other  topic  for  conversation. 

"  I  do  not  see  how  we  can  keep  silly  people  from 
talking,"  replied  Mr.  Linnette,  after  a  pause.  He 
had  been  wondering  who  were  the  guilty  parties, 
and  thinking  he  would  make  the  village  too  warm 
for  them,  if  he  could  discover  their  identity.  "The 
public  has  nothing  to  do  with  my  private  affairs, 


156  LOTK   AT   SEVENTY- 

and  I  heartily  wish  it  would  attend  to  its  own  busi- 
ness." 

He  said  this  in  his  ordinary  tone,  but  Eva  felt  that 
he  was  very  much  in  earnest. 

. "  I  have  only  one  thing  to  say,"  she  remarked. 
"If.  it  is  true  that  I  am  creating  a  coldness  on  your 
part  toward  any  of  your  relations,  I  wish  to  go  away 
at  once." 

This  was  startling  enough  to  make  Mrs.  Warren 
drop  a  plate  that  she  was  filling  with  fruit,  while 
some  tea  that  Mr.  Linnette  was  about  to  convey  to 
his  mouth  splashed  upon  the  table  cloth. 

"  You  will  compel  me,"  said  Mr.  Linnette,  as  soon 
as  he  could  command  his  voice,  "  to  say  things  in 
reference  to  my  nephew  that  I  had  rather  keep  to 
myself.  If  I  have  not  invited  him  here  it  is  on 
account  of  matters  I  have  learned  which  are  not  to 
his  credit." 

Mrs.  Warren,  growing  more  and  more  apprehen- 
sive, touched  the  foot  of  her  daughter  under  the 
table,  but  the  message,  though  thoroughly  under- 
stood, had  no  effect.  Eva  had  never  been  much 
under  her  mother's  control,  and  of  late  years 
she  had  acted  quite  independently  of  her.  She 
answered  the  last  speaker  as  boldly  as  if  there  were 
not  fifty  years  difference  in  their  ages. 

"  Of  course  I  do  not  know  what  you  refer  to,"  she 
said,  "  but  I  should  think  it  a  poor  way  to  improve 
him,  if  he  needs  it,  to  send  him  forth  again  into  the 
world  with  no  one  to  advise  or  direct  his  course. 
Had  you  brought  him  here,  he  might  have  found 
influences  that  would  have  benefited  him." 


UWCLK  AND   NEPHEW.  157 

Mr.  Linnette  could  not  refrain  from  looking  at 
Eva  with  an  expression  that  she  could  not  mistake. 
She  knew  instantly  that  he  was  aware  of  the  visit  that 
Roland  had  paid  to  her  room.  With  this  knowledge 
came  the  certainty  that  he  had  sent  his  nephew 
away  on  account  of  it.  She  had  learned  more  than 
she  expected,  and  not  caring  to  prolong  the  conver- 
sation in  the  presence  of  her  mother,  she  made  no 
further  reference  to  the  matter. 

It  being  now  morally  certain  that  her  lover  had 
been  forced  into  the  action  he  had  taken,  she  deter- 
mined to  write  to  him  and  assure  him  of  her  sym- 
pathy and  continued  devotion.  The  first  thing  was 
to  ascertain  his  address.  Charlotte,  faithful  to  the 
utmost,  discovered  an  opinion  in  the  village  that 
Roland  was  in  New  York.  Eva  knew  that  a  letter 
addressed -to  the  general  delivery  in  that  city  would 
be  very  unlikely  to  reach  its  destination.  When  she 
was  nearly  in  despair  Charlotte  learned  another  fact, 
which  seemed  of  more  account.  She  discovered  that 
Roland's  friend,  Guy  Dalton,  was  now  employed  at 
the  New  York  office  of  the  Montvale  Optical  Com- 
pany. Eva  believed  he  would  be  almost  certain  to 
know  her  lover's  whereabouts. 

Filled  with  new  hope,  Eva  wrote  Guy  a  letter 
without  delay,  telling  him  to  direct  his  answer  to  an 
assumed  name,  in  care  of  Charlotte's  sister,  Mrs. 
Merrill,  who  lived  in  the  village  of  Montvale.  Be- 
lieving that  she  had  entered  upon  what  would  prove 
a  solution  of  the  great  enigma,  Eva  was  in  the 
highest  spirits  she  had  known  for  weeks.  When  she 


158  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

met  Mr.  Linnette  at  table  that  day  she  could  hardly 
conceal  her  gaiety. 

The  wily  maker  of  instruments  was  not,  however, 
to  be  so  easily  outwitted  as  the  young  girl  imagined. 
The  postmaster,  who  was  practically  his  own 
appointee,  had  agreed  to  let  him  see  all  of  the  mail 
that  left  the  village.  There  were  only  two  bags 
each  day,  one  closing  at  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
and  the  other  at  nine  in  the  evening.  Aside  from 
the  letters  of  the  Optical  Company  the  correspon- 
dence that  went  through  the  office  was  trivial,  and  it 
required  but  a  few  moments  for  Mr.  Linnette  to 
examine  it.  He  knew  that  Eva  would  do  her  best  to 
learn  Roland's  address,  and  he  had  no  intention  that 
she  should  succeed  in  communicating  with  him. 

"  Here's  a  letter  that  may  interest  you,"  said 
Postmaster  Hadlock,  on  the  evening  of  the  day 
when  Eva  had  suddenly  appeared  so  radiant. 

Linnette  took  it  eagerly  in  his  hand.  Yes,  it  was 
in  Eva's  handwriting.  It  was  not  addressed  to  his 
nephew,  however,  but  to  "  Guy  Dalton,  Esq.,  care 
Montvale  Optical  Company,  No  —  Third  St.,  New 
York." 

The  name  was  wholly  unfamiliar  to  him,  and  he 
turned  in  an  inquiring  manner  to  the  postmaster. 

"  Do  you  'T^"*  this  gentleman  ?"  he  asked  Mr. 
Hadlock. 

"Why,  yes,"  was  the  answer.  "He  is  a  young 
fellow  whom  your  nephew  befriended  and  kept  at 
the  hotel  here  for  some  time.  He  was  hired  finally 
at  the  works  and  at  last  was  sent  to  the  head  office." 

"That  looks  sufficiently  suspicious,"  said  Mr.  Lin- 


TTNCLE   AND   NEPHEW.  159 

nette,  with  a  bright  gleam  in  his  eye,  "  to  justify  me 
in  getting  at  the  contents  of  this  envelope  at  once.'* 

He  took  up  a  paper  cutter  which  lay  on  the  desk, 
but  the  postmaster  turned  livid. 

"Excuse  me  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  To  open  a  letter 
after  it  has  been  deposited  is  punishable  by  a  heavy 
penalty.  You  must  find  some  other  way,  sir." 

"  I  can  at  least  take  it  to  her  mother,"  Mr.  Lin- 
nette  answered,  his  face  darkening.  "As  her 
daughter  is  a  minor,  she  certainly  has  a  right  to  it." 

The  postmaster  was  in  great  distress.  He  disliked 
to  offend  this  man,  on  whose  goodwill  his  bread 
and  butter  depended,  but  he  had  a  fear  of  the  law 
that  was  even  greater. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  stammered,  "  but  what  is 
there  to  prove  its  authorship  ?  Even  experts  are 
sometimes  mistaken  in  relation  to  handwriting.  It 
has  been  committed  to  the  mail  and  I  dare  not  do 
anything  but  forward  it.  If  you  wish  to  know  what 
is  inside,  there  is  a  much  safer  way.  You  can  take 
the  train  to  New  York  and  get  possession  of  it  at 
your  office.  I  am  very  sorry,  but  I  am  under  oath." 

Mr.  Linnette  uttered  an  impatient  exclamation  and 
strode  into  the  street.  In  the  morning  he  was  a  pas- 
senger on  the  earliest  train.  He  had  merely  told  his 
housekeeper  that  he  was  going  away  on  business, 
something  too  common  to  attract  any  attention. 

He  arrived  at  his  New  York  office  in  advance  of 
the  mail,  and  directed  that  all  letters  received  be 
brought  to  his  private  office.  When  they  arrived  he 
found  the  one  for  which  he  specially  waited.  After 


160  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

deliberating  a   little  he   rang  a  bell  and  requested 
that  Mr.  Dalton  be  asked  to  step  in. 

When  this  message  was  given  to  Guy  he  was 
thrown  into  a  state  of  agitation.  He  had  seen  Mr. 
Linnette  at  the  office  once  before,  and  knew  he  sel- 
dom spoke  to  anyone  except  the  head  clerk  or  the 
messenger  boy.  He  tried  to  think  of  something  he 
had  done  to  merit  criticism,  for  he  did  not  imagine 
his  employer  would  send  for  him  on  any  other 
account.  When  he  presented  himself  in  the  inner 
office  there  was  a  bright  red  spot  in  each  of  his  pale 
cheeks. 

Mr.  Linnette  looked  up  at  his  entrance  and  told 
the  young  man  to  sit  down. 

"  Is  your  name  Guy  Dalton  ?"  he  asked. 

Guy  responded  with  a  faint  affirmative.  He  had 
marked  the  serious  look  and  his  forebodings  in- 
creased. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  employed  here  ?" 

"  About  a  month,  sir.  Though,  before  that,  1  was 
for  some  time  at  your  Montvale  Works." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know,"  said  Mr.  Linnette.  "Now,  I 
have  a  little  business  to  transact  with  you.  It  is  in 
reference  to  this  letter,  which  has  just  arrived  in  the 
mail." 

Guy  showed  his  astonishment,  as  he  gazed  at  the 
envelope.  He  had  no  regular  correspondent,  and 
could  not  imagine  who  had  sent  it. 

"  Do  you  recognize  that  handwriting  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  responded  the  young  man,  after  exam- 
ining it  with  care. 

"  It  was  mailed  at  Montvale,  you  see." 


UNCLE    AND   HBPHEW.  161 

Guy  nodded  vaguely. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  asked  Mr.  Linnette, 
•harply,  "  that  you  were  not  expecting  a  letter  from 
that  place  ?" 

The  young  man's  countenance  grew  still  rosier. 
He  felt  like  one  charged  with  an  unknown  offence, 
like  a  man  put  on  trial  without  being  told  of  what 
he  is  accused. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  he  answered,  "  but  won't 
you  tell  me  the  reason  for  this  strange  series  of 
questions.  That  letter,  judging  by  the  superscrip- 
tion, appears  to  belong  to  me.  I  have  no  idea  who 
wrote  it,  but  if  you  will  hand  it  to  me  I  can  easily 
ascertain.  Then  perhaps  we  shall  get  on  better." 

Mr.  Linnette's  brow  darkened. 

"Very  likely,"  he  said,  satirically.  "Very  likely. 
But  you  will  not  read  it  until  I  have  opened  it.  I 
mean  to  learn  its  contents  before  I  give  it  to  you." 

As  he  took  up  a  paper  cutter  from  the  desk, 
Dalton's  attitude  changed  instantly. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  open  that  letter  !"  he  cried, 
hoarsely. 

There  was  but  one  person  that  the  instrument 
maker  had  ever  permitted  to  speak  to  him  in  that 
way — old  Tom  Hobbs.  For  an  instant  he  was  dis- 
concerted, but  he  had  no  idea  of  giving  the  missive 
to  the  one  who  claimed  it  with  such  a  show  of 
haughtiness. 

"  Be  careful,  young  man  !"  he  replied.  "  This 
letter  is  in  the  handwriting  of  a  girl  who  is  under 
my  protection.  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  it  con- 
tains a  message  for  an  individual  with  whom  I  have 


162  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

forbidden  her  to  hold  any  communication.  I  do  not 
propose,  Mr.  Dalton,  to  have  one  of  my  employes 
use  his  position  to  frustrate  me  in  the  wise  and 
proper  management  of  my  affairs." 

Guy  heard  and  understood.  It  was  as  plain  to 
him  now  as  the  noonday.  The  letter  was  undoubt- 
edly from  Eva  Warren,  who  had  written  to  him 
because  she  could  not  write  to  Roland.  Having 
come  to  this  conclusion  the  young  man  determined 
that  Mr.  Linnette,  whatever  his  financial  or  social 
position,  should  not  possess  himself  of  the  sacred 
secret  contained  in  that  envelope.  Had  he  been  the 
president  of  the  United  States  he  would  not  have 
allowed  him  to  open  it. 

"  Give  me  that  letter  !"  he  said,  imperatively. 

The  elder  man  was  trembling  under  the  strain. 
He  had  not  closed  his  eyes  all  night. 

"  One  minute,"  he  answered,  impressively.  "  I 
want  you  to  understand  what  you  are  doing.  I  have 
told  my  nephew  that  if  he  ever  attempts  to  com- 
municate with  this  young  lady  I  shall  disinherit 
him — shall  cease  treating  him  as  my  relation  from 
that  day  forth.  I  think  you  call  him  your  friend. 
Consider,  then,  before  you  do  an  act  that  may  ruin 
him." 

"  Give  me  that  letter  !" 

The  outstretched  hand  was  still  claiming  the 
missive  when  an  unexpected  arrival  complicated 
affairs  still  more.  Roland  Linnette  had  happened 
to  call  at  the  office  for  a  word  with  Guy.  On  learn- 
ing that  his  uncle  was  interviewing  the  young  man 
in  his  private  office,  he  immediately  suspected  that 


UNCLE    AND    NEPHEW.  163 

Something  of  interest  to  himself  was  going  on  there. 
With  this  thought  in  mind  he  had  no  hesitation  in 
walking  boldly  into  the  room. 

"  Give  me  that  letter  !"  he  heard  Guy  say,  and 
his  quick  eye  took  in  the  address  on  the  envelope 
that  his  uncle  held  up.  He  knew  the  handwriting, 
and  the  extraordinary  tableau  began  to  have  a 
definite  meaning  for  him. 

Eva  had  written — to  him,  perhaps  under  cover  of 
Dalton's  name — but  about  him,  at  least.  His  uncle 
was  evidently  withholding  the  letter  from  its  right- 
ful owner,  probably  with  the  intention  of  violating 
its  seal  for  his  own  purposes.  The  hottest  anger  he 
had  ever  known  suffused  his  brain,  completely  turn- 
ing his  head  for  the  moment ;  and  before  Willard 
Linnette  dreamed  of  his  intention  he  strode  forward 
and  grasped  the  missive  in  his  hand. 

The  millionaire  started  to  his  feet,  but,  seeing  the 
determined  attitude  of  both  the  young  men,  he  de- 
cided that  it  would  be  useless  to  attempt  regaining 
the  document  by  brute  force.  The  group  made  a 
striking  picture,  the  same  expressions  written  on 
each  face. 

"  You  have  done  a  fine  day's  work,  you  two  !" 
sneered  Mr.  Linnette,  between  his  shut  teeth.  "  Mr. 
Dalton,  you  may  go  to  the  cashier  for  whatever  sum 
is  due  you,  and  never  show  yourself  in  my  office 
again.  And  you  " — he  addressed  himself  now  to 
Roland — "  may  go  where  you  please  ;  to  the  devil, 
if  you  like  !  I  shall  cancel  your  letter  of  credit,  and 
you  will  get  nothing  more  from  me.  Let  me  tell 
you  another  thing.  The  poor  girl  you  meant  to 


164  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

ruin,  as  you  have  a  hundred  others,  will  be  kepv 
from  your  clutches.  To  her  will  go  the  fortune  I 
had  meant  for  you.  When  you  are  starving  in  some 
garret,  console  yourself  by  remembering  how  easily 
you  threw  a  million  good  dollars  away  !" 

During  the  delivery  of  this  speech  he  choked  fre- 
quently, overcome  by  the  vehemence  of  his  feelings. 
As  he  paused,  Dalton,  appalled  at  the  extent  of  the 
calamity  he  had  helped  to  bring  upon  his  friend, 
stepped  forward. 

"  I  have  been  wrong,  entirely  wrong  !"  he  cried. 
"Roland  must  not  suffer  on  my  account.  No,  the 
letter  is  mine,  but  he  shall  give  it  to  you.  I  with- 
draw all  objections.  I  accept  my  discharge,  sir,  but 
I  entreat  you  not  to  punish  another  for  a  fault  that 
was  wholly  my  own.  Give  it  to  him,  Roland,"  he 
added,  addressing  himself  to  that  young  gentleman. 
"  I  am  sure  he  will  then  retract  what  he  has  said 
about  you  and  leave  me  to  bear  my  punishment 
alone." 

Wrought  up  as  he  had  been,  Willard  Linnette 
would  willingly  have  met  even  a  halfway  approach 
on  the  part  of  his  nephew.  He  felt  a  genuine  alarm 
at  the  extent  to  which  his  passionate  nature  had  led 
him.  But,  angrier  even  than  he,  Roland  gave  him  no 
opportunity. 

"He  shall  not  have  it !"  he  retorted.  "A  letter 
from  such  a  girl  shall  not  be  touched  by  profane 
hands.  Do  you  think  he  is  going  to  scare  me  by  his 
threats?  What  do  they  amount  to,  at  the  worst? 
Why,  that  he  will  give  his  miserable  money — the 
only  thing  there  is  to  him,  the  only  thing  that  makes 


UNCLE   AND   NEPHEW.  165 

people  doff  their  hats  when  he  passes,— to  the  one 
I  most  love  and  honor  !  That  money  of  his  !  He  has 
spent  too  much  of  it  for  me  already.  It  would  have 
been  a  thousand  times  better  had  he  sent  me  out 
years  ago,  with  twenty  dollars  in  my  pocket,  to  fight 
my  way.  But  let  me  tell  you,  sir"  (lie  addressed 
himself  to  his  uncle),  "you  will  never  steal  Eva 
Warren's  love  from  me.  I  am  now  free  from  obliga- 
tion to  you,  and  shall  attempt  no  farther  conceal- 
ment. She  has  promised  to  marry  me,  and,  if  she 
will  take  me  as  I  am,  she  shall  be  my  wife." 

Mr.  Linnette's  features  seemed  petrified  as  he 
answered.  These  words  withered  the  olive  branch 
he  had  been  ready  to  stretch  out. 

"  If  that  misguided  young  woman  should  link  her 
life  with  yours — which  she  never  will  do,  if  I  can 
prevent  it — she  will  not  receive  a  penny  of  my 
money.  Don't  imagine  you  are  going  to  mock  me 
and  inherit  my  wealth  through  that  channel.  When 
you  find  that  she  is  penniless  we  shall  see  how  real 
your  professions  are  !" 

Roland  gazed  with  a  pitying  look  at  the  old  man 
before  him. 

"  Look  at  him,  Guy,"  he  said.  "  He  is  seventy 
years  of  age,  and  the  only  thing  he  can  think  of  is 
money,  money,  MONEY  !  During  his  long  life  no 
woman's  love  has  ever  warmed  his  heart,  no  child 
of  his  own  has  ever  played  about  his  knees.  He  has 
not  even  felt  the  delights  of  passion.  He  has  known 
nothing  but  money,  and  now  that  his  hair  is  white  he 
babbles  of  his  possessions  as  children  of  their  toys." 

Putting  his  arm  affectionately   around   his   com- 


160  LOVE    AT    SEVENTY. 

panion's  shoulder  Roland  drew  him  out  into  the 
main  office,  where  he  found  his  hat  and  coat.  Then 
the  two  young  men,  one  of  them  white  and  dizzy, 
the  other  loftily  serene,  went  out  of  the  building 
together. 


OH,   I  KNOW   SOME  THINGS."  167 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"OH,    I    KNOW    SOME    THINGS." 

As  soon  as  he  was  left  alone  in  his  office  Willard 
Linnette  sank  into  his  chair,  and  for  more  than  an 
hour  did  not  move  from  that  position.  He  could 
hardly  believe  himself  awake.  The  scene  he  had 
just  witnessed  was  like  an  exceedingly  unpleasant 
dream.  It  seemed  impossible  that  his  nephew  could 
have  dared  him  to  his  face,  thrown  away  all  his 
prospects  like  dross,  and  ended  by  those  most  insult- 
ing words.  But  he  was  obliged  to  admit  that  the 
crisis  had  actually  occurred.  The  Rubicon  had 
been  passed.  There  was  no  longer  any  question  of 
reconciliation.  He  must  return  to  Montvale  and 
carry  out  his  threat. 

Late  that  night  he  reached  home,  and  all  the  next 
day  he  remained  indoors,  preparing  himself  for  an 
interview  with  Tom  Hobbs,  which  he  had  determined 
to  have  that  evening.  He  knew  that  Hobbs  would 
oppose  him  at  every  point,  but  he  had  no  other  per- 
son in  whom  he  was  willing  to  confide.  In  his 
present  state  of  mind  it  would  be  a  relief  to 
unbosom  himself  even  to  him. 

The  collision  with  Roland  made  him  desperate. 
For  the  past  month  he  had  tried  with  all  his  might 
to  bring  himself  to  the  point  where  he  could  effect  a 


168  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

full  reconciliation  with  the  young  man.  He  pre- 
ferred to  believe  he  was  not  as  bad  as  represented. 
He  reflected  that  something  must  be  allowed  for  his 
unguided  youth.  And  he  had  even  debated  the 
possibility  of  surrendering  to  his  nephew  all  hopes 
of  possessing  the  sweet  girl  whose  love  filled  the 
brightest  spot  in  his  lonely  existence. 

Now  all  this  was  over.  Every  time  he  thought  of 
Roland  he  heard  that  mocking  voice,  "  Money, 
money,  MONEY  !  All  this  old  man  thinks  of  is 
money /"  Ah,  well  !  The  boy  would  learn  what 
money  was,  when  he  had  tried  a  few  weeks  to  live 
without  it,  and  would  come  creeping  back,  begging 
for  ever  so  little  of  an  allowance  ;  this  fellow  without 
a  trade  or  profession.  And  he  would  give  him 
nothing — no,  not  one  cent.  He  was  through  with 
him,  and  forever  ! 

In  a  short  conversation  which  he  had  with  Mrs. 
Warren,  he  gave  her  a  dim  impression  that  his  nephew 
had  met  with  a  severe  accident. 

"Did  you  meet  any  of  your  relations  in  New 
York  ?"  she  asked,  anxiously. 

"  I  did  not,"  he  replied,  frowning  darkly.  "  I  have 
no  relation  there  but  my  brother,  and  I  was  too  busy 
to  see  him." 

"  Something  serious  has  happened,  then,  to  Mr. 
Roland  ?" 

"  Something  very  serious,  Mrs.  Warren.  It  is  a 
disagreeable  subject,  and  I  do  not  care  to  go  into  it. 
Let  it  suffice  that  I  have  discovered  him  to  be 
wholly  unworthy  of  my  regard,  and  shall  neither  pro- 
vide for  him  hereafter  nor  leave  him  anything  in  my 


"OH,    I   KNOW   SOME   THINGS."  169 

Ti'.f.  This  being  the  case,  having  already  made  full 
provisions  for  my  brother,  I  shall  have  a  handsome 
sum  to  bequeath  to — to  someone  else.  Within  a 
few  days  I  intend  to  have  a  lawyer  here  and  re- 
arrange everything." 

When  Tom  Hobbs  came  that  evening,  Mr.  Lin- 
nette  put  on  his  very  boldest  front.  Everything  must 
now  depend  upon  one  cast  of  the  die. 

"You've  often  called  me  an  old  fool,  Tom,"  he 
said,  quietly.  "  You  can't  say  anything  much  worse 
when  I  tell  you  what  I  am  going  to  do  next." 

Tom  was  engaged  at  the  moment  in  the  impor- 
tant occupation  of  cutting  tobacco  for  his  pipe.  He 
nodded  his  head,  without  looking  up. 

"  I'm  going  to  marry  !" 

Hobbs  raised  his  eyes  just  enough  to  dart  a  look 
of  contempt  at  his  companion. 

"  You  don't  suppose  that's  any  surprise  to  me,"  he 
said.  "  How  many  times  have  I  said  your  house- 
keeper would  pull  the  wool  over  youi  eyes  and  get 
to  be  mistress  of  this  place,  before  she  had  done 
with  you  ?" 

The  error  was  a  natural  one,  but  Mr.  Linnette  bit 
his  lip  as  he  heard  it. 

"Well,  for  once,  you  were  wrong,"  he  replied. 

"Wrong?"  echoed  Hobbs,  amazed. 

"  Wrong.  It  is  not  Mrs.  Warren  that  I  am  to 
wed." 

The  superintendent  was  completely  nonplussed. 
For  a  moment  he  felt  a  sensation  resembling  regret. 
If  Linnette  was  bound  to  marry,  Mrs.  Warren  would 
do  as  well  as  anyone  else.  She  was  at  least  used  to 


170  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

his  moods,  his  manner  of  living,  and  acquainted  to  a 
certain  degree  with  his  business.  Hobbs  did  not 
like  to  contemplate  a  strange  woman  there,  altering 
everything  to  suit  her  own  tastes,  and  his  employer 
had  denied  the  suggestion  of  Eva  so  vehemently  on 
a  previous  occasion  that  he  never  once  thought  of 
her. 

"  Not — your — housekeeper  !" 

Linnette  laughed  a  little.  He  was  becoming  reck- 
less. He  meant  to  defy  the  entire  universe,  in  the 
person  of  old  Tom  Hobbs.  His  superintendent 
undoubtedly  represented  popular  opinion  on  this 
matter.  All  Montvale  would  have  said  the  same. 
What  business  had  Hobbs,  or  Montvale,  to  pick  out 
Mrs.  Warren  for  him  ?  Could  he  not  decide  on  his 
own  wife,  without  their  interference  ? 

"  No,"  he  said,  decidedly,  and  not  without  a  tinge 
of  malice.  "  It  is  not  Mrs.  Warren  that  I  am  think- 
ing of  marrying." 

"  Then  you  are  a  bigger  fool  than  I  took  you  to 
be,"  snarled  Hobbs.  "  To  marry  her  would  prove 
you  short  of  common  sense,  but  to  take  another 
woman  would  show  that  you  had  become  completely 
daft." 

The  man  of  wealth  listened  with  no  sign  of  disap- 
proval. He  was  used  to  this  blunt  man  and  expected 
nothing  less  from  him. 

"  Thanks,"  he  responded,  with  polite  irony. 
"And  what  would  you  call  me  if  I  were  to  tell 
you  that  the  woman  I  mean  to  wed  is  her 
daughter  ?" 


"OH,    I    KNOW    SOME   THINGS."  171 

At  this  remark  the  slight  control  which  Hobbs 
had  retained  of  his  temper  gave  way  entirely. 

"  A  villain  /"  he  cried. 

Linnette's  manner  changed  like  lightning  at  the 
appellation.  He  lost  color  and  his  voice  grew  stern. 

"  Take  care  !"  he  said,  icily. 

Hobbs  was  excited.  He  rose  to  his  feet  and  took 
a  dozen  steps  up  and  down  the  room.  Then  he 
turned  to  Mr.  Linnette,  and  begged  him,  with  the 
utmost  earnestness,  to  admit  that  he  did  not  mean 
what  he  said. 

"  Only  tell  me  you  were  joking,"  he  pleaded, 
"  and  I  will — yes,  I  will  even  beg  your  pardon  !" 

Never  had  Mr.  Linnette  seen  his  superintendent  in 
such  a  mood.  He  had  not  believed  that  an  occasion 
could  arise  when  Hobbs  would  admit,  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, that  he  had  been  in  the  wrong. 

44  I  never  meant  anything  more  in  my  life,"  he 
said,  coldly.  "  And  let  me  add  that  if  the  announce- 
ment does  not  please  you  I  cannot  help  it.  I  am  old 
enough  to  manage  my  own  business." 

Hobbs  was  still  struggling  with  his  incredulity. 

44  Old  enough  !"  he  ejaculated.  "  God  knows  you 
are  old  enough  !  But  this  child — this  school-girl — " 

"  She  is  eighteen,"  interrupted  his  companion, 

41  And  she  has  consented?" 

Linnette  paused  ior  some  seconds  before  ne 
answered. 

14 1  have  not  yet  proposed  to  her  ;  but,  do  you 
think  she  will  refuse  ?" 

No,   Hobbs  did  not  think  so.    He  could  see  in 


172  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

imagination  the  bauble  dangling  before  her  eye* — 
the  million  dollars  that  would  bait  the  hook. 

"What  does  her  mother  say  ?"  he  asked,  like  one 
who  catches  at  a  straw. 

"  Her  mother  is  a  sensible  woman.  She  will  not  be 
likely  to  stand  in  the  way  of  her  daughter's  advance- 
ment." 

Hobbs,  in  his  wrath,  shook  his  clenched  fist  at  the 
air. 

"  Advancement  !"  he  cried.  "  God,  Will  Lin- 
nette  !  You  drive  me  crazy  !" 

The  man  addressed  vouchsafed  no  reply  to  this 
exclamation.  He  was  becoming  angrier  every  minute 
at  the  attitude  taken — an  attitude,  he  told  himself, 
that  the  world  at  large  would  be  sure  to  copy. 

"  I've  thought,  a  hundred  times,"  continued  Hobbs, 
speaking  as  if  the  words  choked  him,  "  that  the  time 
would  come  when  you  would  marry  the  mother  and 
the  girl  would  get  your  nephew.  But — " 

He  stopped,  appalled  by  the  savage  gleam  in  his 
employer's  eyes. 

"  Never  speak  to  me  of  that  boy  again  !"  thundered 
the  latter.  "  He  has  interfered  between  me  and  one 
of  my  clerks,  insulted  me,  called  me  every  name  he 
could  lay  his  tongue  to,  abused  and  threatened  me  ! 
And  that  is  not  the  greatest  offence  of  which  he  has 
been  guilty.  Before  he  left  Montvale  he  entered 
these  grounds  at  night,  in  collusion  with  a  servant, 
and  was  admitted  to  Miss  Eva's  apartment !" 

Hobbs  stared  at  the  speaker  until  it  seemed  as  if 
his  eyes  were  frozen  in  their  sockets. 

"  Who  told  you  that  last  lie  ?"  he  demanded. 


"OH,   I   KHOW   SOME   THINGS.**  173 

44  Oh,  I  know  some  things  !"  was  the  retort.  "  I  saw 
him  enter  the  house,  with  her  maid  as  his  escort,  and 
I  saw  him  leave  it  an  hour  later.  Then  I  stopped 
him  in  the  road  on  his  way  back  to  the  village,  and 
charged  him  with  it ;  and  he  had  not  a  word  to  say 
for  himself." 

There  was  no  questioning  this  direct  evidence,  and 
Hobbs  decided  to  change  the  manner  of  his  attack. 

"  And  you  tell  me  that  you  mean  to  marry  a  girl 
like  that!"  he  exclaimed.  "A  girl  who  admits  a 
young  man  to  her  chamber  at  night  !" 

Willard  Linnette  had  not  thought  of  the  matter 
in  this  light.  He  had  only  considered  the  offense  as 
his  nephew's.  It  now  occurred  to  him  that  he  must 
have  come  by  Eva's  invitation.  The  color  left  his 
face  and  he  was  quite  pale. 

"  You  happened  to  discover  this  visit, "said  Hobbs, 
pushing  his  advantage,  like  a  skillful  general,  at  the 
point  where  his  adversary's  line  was  weakest.  "  By 
some  accident  you  learned  of  that  one  call,  but  how 
can  you  tell  there  were  not  fifty  others  that  escaped 
your  observation  ?" 

Linnette  was  plainly  staggered  by  this  suggestion. 

"  A  man  should  select  his  wife  of  different  mater- 
ial than  this,"  pursued  the  other,  relentlessly. 
"Your  nephew  was  here  at  the  hotel  for  three  weeks 
while  you  were  out  of  town.  For  all  you  know  he 
may  have  gone  to  see  her  every  night.  If  her  maid 
could  let  him  in  once  she  could  again.  Don't  let 
your  infatuation  blind  your  eyes  completely." 

Mr.  Linnette  drew  a  long  breath  that  was  full  of 
pain. 


174  LOVE   AT    SEVENTY. 

"  'Love  laughs  at  locksmiths,'  "  continued  Hobbs, 
"  and  every  post-office  holds  one  of  his  representa- 
tives. You  have  sent  the  boy  away,  but  you  can't 
keep  them  from  corresponding." 

Linnette  shook  as  if  he  had  the  ague.  He  knew 
the  correspondence  had  begun,  not  by  his  nephew, 
either,  but  by  Eva.  What  terrible  thing  was  this 
pressing  upon  his  brain  ?  Could  it  be  that  Hobbs 
had  a  basis  for  his  insinuation  ?  Was  this  girl, 
instead  of  the  innocent  creature  she  appeared,  a 
scheming  adventuress  of  depraved  character  ?  It 
was  true  he  had  seen  Roland  enter  the  house  but 
once,  but  was  it  at  all  likely  this  was  his  only  call 
there?  No,  he  could  not  bear  it;  anything  was 
better  than  these  horrible  suspicions.  And  he  burst 
out  that  he  would  know  the  truth — that  he  would 
go  that  instant  to  seek  the  girl  and  force  her  to  tell 
him  the  facts  with  her  own  lips. 

But  this  was  the  last  thing  that  Hobbs  wanted 
him  to  do  at  that  time.  As  Mr.  Linnette  rose  to 
leave  the  room  he  stopped  him. 

"  Don't  be  foolish,"  he  said,  impressively.  "  There 
is  but  one  way  in  which  you  can  preserve  the  honor 
of  your  establishment.  In  the  first  place  you  must 
give  up  your  senseless  plan  of  marrying  this  child, 
and  next  you  must  compel  your  nephew  to  right 
the  wrong  he  has  done." 

But  Linnette  lost  his  temper  at  this,  and  swore 
roundly  that  Roland's  name  must  never  again  be 
mentioned  in  his  presence.  If  that  boy  had  done 
anything  criminal — anything  reflecting  on  Miss 
Warren's  good  name — he  would  see  that  he  was 


"OH,   I   KNOW    SOME   THINGS."  175 

^unished,  not  rewarded.  But  he  did  not  believe  it, 
and  he  was  going  to  see  her  at  once  and  satisfy 
himself  that  it  was  untrue. 

"  You  will  probably  make  a  mess  of  it,"  growled 
Hobbs.  "  You  had  better  let  me  go  with  you." 

This  offer  was  refused  sharply. 

"  Then  I  will  wait  here,"  said  the  imperturbable 
man. 

"  You  can  do  as  you  please." 

Linnette  went  into  the  parlor  and  summoned  a 
servant,  whom  he  despatched  for  Charlotte.  When 
the  maid  arrived  he  inquired  if  her  mistress  was  to 
be  found  in  her  apartment. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  maid.  "But,"  she  added,  not 
liking  the  strange  look  on  the  master's  face,  "she  is 
about  to  retire." 

"  I  am  going  to  see  her,"  was  the  brief  statement 
Mr.  Linnette  made. 

"  In  her  room  ?"  exclaimed  the  maid,  with  vivid 
color. 

Mr.  Linnette  bent  toward  her  and  spoke  with  a 
volume  of  meaning. 

"  It  will  not  be  the  first  time  she  has  received  a 
man  there,  as  you  know  well.  She  is  not  undressed, 
I  suppose  ?" 

"  N-o,  sir,"  replied  Charlotte,  frightened  at  his 
words. 

"Then  I  shall  go.  You  need  not  accompany  me. 
And,  unless  you  wish  to  leave  this  house  to-morrow, 
you  will  say  nothing  to  anyone." 


176  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

BEGINNING      ALL     OVER. 

When  Roland  Linnette  and  Guy  Dalton  walked 
out  of  the  office  of  the  Montvale  Optical  Company, 
neither  was  in  a  very  comfortable  frame  of  mind. 

Dalton  was  by  far  the  most  distressed.  He  could 
not  help  feeling  that  he  had  wrecked  the  prospects 
of  his  benefactor.  It  grieved  him  to  the  utmost  that 
his  proffered  sacrifice  had  not  been  accepted  as  the 
best  solution  of  the  unhappy  business.  His  own  loss, 
that  of  his  situation,  seemed  trivial  beside  his  friend's 
misfortune.  It  was  a  terrible  thing  that  such  a 
rupture  should  have  happened  between  Mr.  Linnetttf 
and  his  nephew. 

Roland,  on  the  contrary,  was  too  indignant  to  think 
consecutively.  His  uncle's  conduct  appeared  to  him 
entirely  indefensible.  Proposing  to  open  a  letter 
directed  to  another  person  was,  in  his  opinion,  the 
depth  of  meanness.  As  to  Eva  Warren,  her  mother's 
employer  had  no  right  to  interfere  with  her  actions 
in  the  way  he  had  attempted  to  do.  She  was  not 
his  child,  nor  was  he  in  a  legal  sense  her  guardian. 
The  young  man  was  stung  again  at  the  recollection 
of  the  ignominious  manner  in  which  he  had  been 
driven  from  Montvale.  He  had  persuaded  himself 
that  his  consent  to  obey  his  uncle's  peremptory 
order  was  obtained  quite  as  much  from  fear  of 
injuring  Eva  as  from  care  for  his  own  interests.  As 


BEGINNING   ALL   OVE».  177 

they  walked  along  toward  his  rooms  he  lashed  him- 
self into  a  rage  over  his  injuries. 

"  Confound  the  man,  did  he  take  me  for  a  fool  !" 
he  cried.  "I  should  think  by  the  way  he  talked  he 
considered  me  about  five  years  old.  The  deuce  take 
him  and  his  money  !  I'm  heartily  glad  to  be  rid  of 
both.  I  will  get  work  and  eat  the  bread  of  indepen- 
dence. Yes,  Guy,  and  when  I  can  earn  enough  for 
two,  I  will  bring  that  charming  girl  from  Montvale 
and  divide  the  loaf  with  her." 

Guy,  who  had  been  through  the  experience  of 
looking  for  a  situation,  was  not  so  confident.  But 
he  did  not  mean  to  discourage  his  companion,  whom 
he  believed  much  wiser  and  abler  than  himself. 
Accordingly,  he  concealed  his  apprehensions,  and  said 
they  must  sit  down  as  soon  as  possible  and  form  a 
regular  plan  of  action. 

"  We'll  do  it,"  said  Roland,  briskly.  "  Come  into 
the  house  with  me  and  let  us  study  out  our  problem 
together." 

Seated  in  the  cosy  parlor  of  the  suite,  they  soon  set 
themselves  to  the  task  before  them. 

"  To  begin  with,"  said  Roland,  "  I  shall  have  to 
give  notice  that  I'm  going  to  move.  They  have  the 
assurance  to  charge  me  a  hundred  dollars  a  month 
for  this  little  box,  which  will  certainly  be  beyond  my 
means  now.  I  don't  know  exactly  where  I  shall  dis- 
pose of  my  time  and  talents,  but  it's  very  unlikely  the 
emoluments  will  justify  this  rate  of  expense  at  pres- 
ent. I  shall  have  to  pack  these  traps  away  some- 
where, hire  a  furnished  bedroom,  and  browse  around 
in  boarding  houses  for  my  meals.  Ugh  !  it  makes 


ITS  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

me  shiver!  What  do  you  suppose  I'm  fit  for? 
Never  mind.  I've  a  lot  of  pluck,  and  they  say  the 
world  owes  every  man  a  living.  Wait  a  minute, 
now,  till  I  send  a  letter  to  my  landlord." 

He  went  to  a  handsome  desk  and  took  out  some 
elegant  stationery,  upon  which  he  began  to  write. 

"  It  must  be  awfully  dreary  in  a  furnished  room," 
he  said,  pausing  in  the  midst  of  his  labor.  "  I  shall 
never  stay  in  it  except  when  I'm  a-bed  or  getting  in 
or  out.  Is  there  anything  to  let  over  on  Tenth 
Avenue  ?  By  George  !"  he  exclaimed,  springing 
gaily  to  his  feet.  "  I  have  an  idea  !" 

Dalton  was  the  picture  of  interest.  It  is  the  nature 
of  drowning  men  to  catch  at  straws. 

"  Why  not  take  a  cheap  flat  ?"  said  Roland,  putting 
down  his  pen.  "  I  have  things  enough  to  furnish  all 
but  the  kitchen.  Then,  if  we  could  get  a  house- 
keeper, we  should  at  least  have  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  how  our  food  was  cooked.  With  two  of 
us  to  divide  the  cost,  it  wouldn't  be  so  recklessly 
expensive.  Besides,  if  we  got  nervous,  there  would 
be  several  rooms  to  promenade  in.  And  it  would 
be  a  kind  of  home,  which  a  mere  lodging  never  is. 
What  do  you  say  ?" 

"  It  would  be  very  nice,  if  the  cost  was  low 
enough,"  responded  Dalton,  doubtfully. 

Roland  scratched  the  top  of  his  head  for  a  few 
minutes  with  the  handle  of  a  paper  cutter.  All  at 
once  he  uttered  a  war-whoop. 

"  Tra-la-la-la-la  !  1  have  it  !  Don't  say  a  word  ! 
Nothing  could  be  finer.  She  is  working  for  hardly 
enough  to  pay  for  her  board  and  room,  and  she 


BEGINNING    ALL   OVER.  179 

would  certainly  come.  Yes,  there  is  no  question 
about  it  !" 

Dalton  shook  his  head  in  a  puzzled  way,  wonder- 
ing if  his  companion's  troubles  had  unsettled  his 
reason. 

"  Of  whom  are  you  talking  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Why — how  stupid  you  can  be  when  you  like  ! — 
Maud,  of  course.  She's  living  a  miserable  life  be- 
tween that  millinery  shop  and  her  poorly  furnished 
chamber.  She  has  been  in  a  hotel  and  ought  to 
make  a  famous  housekeeper.  We  could  hire  the 
harder  things  done  by  those  women  who  go  around 
by  the  day,  but  as  the  presiding  genius  of  our  flat 
she  would  be  adorable !  She'd  come,  wouldn't 
she  ?" 

Guy  colored,  as  was  his  wont  when  women  were 
the  subject  of  discussion  ;  but  he  rallied  presently, 
and  replied  that  he  believed  Miss  Arline  might  con- 
sider the  matter. 

"  Consider  it  ?"  laughed  Roland.  "  She'll  jump  at 
it,  if  only  for  the  chance  of  seeing  you  oftener.  I 
believe  you  have  quite  fascinated  her,  by  this  time. 
Honor  bright,  between  us,  isn't  she  in  love  with 
you  ?" 

Guy  did  not  give  an  answering  smile  to  the  one  on 
the  face  of  his  friend,  but  he  replied,  very  calmly, 
that  he  thought  Maud  liked  him. 

"  Think  !"  cried  Roland.  "  Hang  it,  don't  you 
know  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  other,  in  his  straightforward  way. 
"I  know." 

Roland  gazed  at  him  with  intense  curiosity.     He 


180  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 

wondered  how  far  things  had  gone.  He  knew  they 
were  in  the  habit  of  meeting  almost  every  evening. 
The  pretty  Maud  !  How  shy  she  had  been  at  Mont- 
vale,  hardly  daring  to  sit  at  the  table  with  him. 
blushing  when  he  addressed  her,  ready  to  faint  when 
he  hinted  that  he  would  like  to  touch  her  cheek  with 
his  lips.  Sweet  Maud  !  Innocent  little  Maud  ! 

"Then  that  is  settled,"  he  said,  rousing  himself. 
"  What  a  nice  party  we  three  will  make.  We  shall 
have  a  common  purse.  There's  not  likely  to  be  too 
much  in  it,  but  we'll  share  all  there  is.  Do  you  con- 
sent to  that  ?  Shall  we  divide  everything — all  but  the 
kisses  of  Miss  Maud,  which,  it  is  understood,  belong 
exclusively  to  you  ?" 

Guy  felt  distressed  as  he  heard  these  words. 
What  would  be  Roland's  attitude  toward  Maud,  if 
they  became  one  family?  If  he  should  make  obnox- 
ious advances,  nothing  could  prevent  a  rupture,  not 
even  the  recollection  of  old  obligations. 

"  I'm  afraid,"  he  replied,  ignoring  the  unpleasant 
part  of  his  friend's  remarks,  "  that  I  shall  get  the 
best  of  the  bargain,  if  we  have  one  pocketbook. 
You'll  be  sure  to  bring  in  much  more  than  I.  You 
have  a  number  of  acquaintances  in  the  city,  while  I 
have  absolutely  none." 

Linnette  laughed  lightly. 

"  We  are  equal  on  that  score,"  said  he.  "  I  would 
starve  to  death  before  I  would  ask  for  help.  No,  we 
must  depend  on  ourselves  entirely.  But  my  rent  is 
going  on  at  a  fearful  rate  and  I  must  send  this  letter 
to  my  landlord.  After  that  we  can  take  an  account 
of  stock." 


BWHKNING    ALL   OVE».  181 

Ringing  a  bell  he  placed  the  letter  in  the  hands  of 
a  servant. 

"A  fortnight  from  to-day,"  he  said,  smiling,  when 
the  man  had  disappeared,  "  we  shall  have  to  do  our 
own  errands.  These  electric  contrivances  with  a 
messenger  on  the  end  are  really  too  luxurious  and 
debilitating.  Now,  let  us  see  what  we  have  on  which 
to  begin  our  independent  existence.  We  will  empty 
our  pockets  and  learn  the  worst." 

In  spite  of  the  sober  thoughts  that  afflicted  him, 
Guy  could  not  help  being  affected  by  his  friend's 
gaiety.  He  found  on  investigation  that  he  had  the 
sum  of  $17.29,  while  Roland  had  $92.25.  The  latter 
counted  the  money  in  great  glee,  and  remarked  that 
is  was  much  better  than  nothing. 

"  You  are  quite  rich,  compared  with  me,"  Guy 
remarked,  regretfully. 

"Ah,  but  my  liabilities  are  greater.  I  shall  have 
to  pay  fifty  dollars  on  these  rooms,  before  I  can  get 
out  of  them.  Give  up  your  chamber  on  the  shortest 
possible  notice  and  come  here.  That  will  save  a 
little.  I  have  a  few  rings,  a  gold  watch  and  a 
diamond  pin  that  will  bring  something.  As  we  are 
to  be  so  very  economical  Maud  might  come  here 
also,"  he  added,  with  a  laugh,  "if  she  could  content 
herself  with  a  sofa." 

Guy  rose,  uneasy  at  this  turn  in  the  conversation. 

"  I  will  go  home  now  and  prepare  to  move,"  he 
said.  "  I  will  speak  to  Miss  Arline  about  the  house- 
keeping matter,  when  I  meet  her  to-night  for  dinner. 
I  am  very,  very  sorry  to  have  been  the  means  of 
making  trouble  between  you  and  your  uncle,"  he 


182  LOVE   AT    SEVENTY. 

continued,  with  a  tremor  in  his  voice.  "  Perhaps, 
when  you  have  slept  over  it,  you  will  feel  like  trying 
to  make  up  with  him." 

"  D — n  him  !"  was  the  reply.  "  I  am  only  too 
glad  to  be  rid  of  him,  to  be  able  to  do  as  I  please.. 
But — what  a  crazy  pair  we  are  ! — you  have  not  read 
I  your  letter  yet,  the  one  that  made  all  the  row." 
•  It  was  true.  The  letter  was  still  slumbering  in 
Guy's  pocket,  where  he  had  placed  it  when  first 
handed  to  him.  He  took  it  out  now  and  offered  it 
to  his  companion,  but  Roland  insisted  that  as  it  was 
directed  to  him  he  must  read  it.  Persuaded  by  this 
logic,  Guy  opened  the  envelope  and  found  its  con- 
tents to  be  as  follows  : 

"  DEAR  SIR  : — Are  you  able  to  inform  me  of  the 
present  address  of  Mr.  Roland  Linnette  ?  If  so,  you 
will  confer  a  great  favor.  Please  send  your  reply  to 
*W.  E.,'  Care  of  Mrs.  Susan  Merrill,  Montvale. 

"  Yours  Sincerely,  EVA  WARREN." 

"  Not  very  touching,  is  it  ?"  laughed  Roland,  as 
he  perused  the  letter.  "Well,  with  your  permission, 
I  will  answer  it  myself.  She  shall  know  the  little 
scrape  she  has  got  me  into.  My  uncle  can't  keep 
her  from  writing,  as  I  see,  if  Charlotte  continues 
true.  I'll  send  a  reply  in  time  for  the  evening  mail 
and  she'll  get  it  by  noon  to-morrow.  Mrs.  Merrill's 
name  shows  that  she  does  not  dare  to  have  anything 
sent  direct  to  the  house.  To  avoid  interference  at 
this  end  of  the  road  I  will  give  her  my  new  street 
and  number.  Don't  forget  to  call  to-morrow  morn- 
ing. Au  revoir,  men  ami/" 


IK    EVA'S   CHAMBER. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

IN      EVA'S      CHAMBER. 

Roland's  letter  reached  Eva,  as  he  expected,  on 
the  noon  of  the  day  following  the  one  on  which  it  was 
written.  It  was  composed  in  his  best  vein,  and 
divided  between  a  narration  of  what  had  happened 
in  his  uncle's  office  and  a  series  of  solemn  declara- 
tions that  he  meant  to  make  himself  worthy  of  "  the 
only  girl  he  had  ever  cared  for."  Eva  felt  a  great 
elation  as  she  read  it.  How  noble  it  was  of  him,  to 
make  such  a  sacrifice  !  He  had  given  up  fortune, 
comfort,  ease — everything — for  her  dear  sake.  How 
different  this  from  the  picture  his  uncle  had  drawn  ! 

"  Now  that  you  are  able  to  communicate  with  me, 
through  the  assistance  of  your  friend,  Mrs.  Merrill," 
he  wrote,  "  we  shall  be  able  to  nerve  each  other  for 
every  trial  that  enemies  may  put  in  our  way.  Have 
Mrs.  M.  write  on  your  envelopes,  and  send  your  let- 
ters to  the  address  and  name  which  I  enclose.  That 
will  make  all  perfectly  safe  both  at  Montvale  and 
here.  My  uncle  has  evidently  determined  to  keep 
you  from  me,  if  he  can.  He  may  try  to  fill  your  head 
with  the  most  awful  stories,  but  don't  believe  him. 
I  have  not  always  been  a  saint,  which  I  lament  sin- 
cerely ;  but  I  shall  be  true  to  you,  whatever  happens. 
Keep  me  informed  of  all  that  transpires.  I  shall 
await  your  replies  with  the  utmost  eagerness.  Af 


184  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

soon  as  fate  smiles  on  my  endeavors,  rest  assured  I 
shall  come  for  you." 

Eva  read  this,  first  to  herself  and  then  to  Charlotte. 
She  could  not  resist  the  inclination  to  share  her 
secret  with  some  feminine  breast,  and  she  had  the 
most  perfect  confidence  in  her  maid. 

"  Oh,  it  is  so  sweet  to  be  loved  !"  she  cried, 
ecstatically.  "  This  is  what  I  wanted  all  the  time 
instead  of  those  dreadful  powders  and  potions.  See 
how  much  better  my  complexion  is,  how  much  more 
color  I  have.  I  hope  he  will  not  make  me  wait  too 
long.  I  want  very  little — only  a  piece  of  bread  and 
a  roof  to  cover  me,  but  in  his  arms  I  should  forget 
even  hunger  and  cold." 

The  next  hour  was  taken  up  in  discussing  the 
matter,  Charlotte  looking  on  the  bright  side,  like 
her  mistress,  and  predicting  that  all  would  come  out 
right  in  the  end.  Then  Eva  took  her  pen  and  poured 
out  her  soul  to  her  lover.  In  the  innocent  freedom 
of  her  heart  she  kept  back  nothing.  She  did  not 
hesitate  to  declare  that  she  had  never  known  happi- 
ness till  now,  to  vow  eternal  fidelity,  even  to  admit 
that  she  longed  for  the  hour  when  he  would  be  her 
own  in  deed  and  truth.  Sneer  not  at  her,  my  dear 
young  lady  reader.  She  had  not  acquired  your 
power  of  concealing  her  feelings.  She  did  not 
understand  why  she  should  be  less  frank  than  the 
man  she  had  promised  to  wed. 

When  her  letter  was  finished  and  crowded  into 
its  envelope  she  affixed  two  stamps,  knowing  that  it 
must  be  over-weight.  Charlotte  took  the  missive  to 


nr  EVA'S  CHAMBER.  185 

her  relation,  Mrs.  Merrill,  who  wrote  the  address  as 
requested  and  put  it  in  the  mail  box. 

The  rest  of  the  afternoon  was  passed  by  Eva  in 
a  delirium  of  bliss.  She  played  for  more  than  an 
hour  on  the  piano,  chanting  a  love-song  that  she 
found  among  her  music.  The  words  had  meant 
nothing  to  her  when  the  piece  first  came  into  the 
house.  Now  each  fond  expression  referred  dis- 
tinctly to  Roland,  and  she  sang  it  over  and  over 
again. 

At  supper  she  noticed  that  Mr.  Linnette  said  little, 
but  for  a  long  time  he  had  not  talked  as  much  as  he 
used  at  the  table.  Mrs.  Warren  was  not  equal  to 
carrying  the  mam  burden  of  a  conversation,  and  as 
Eva  had  nothing  to  say,  the  meal  was  passed  in  al- 
most total  silence.  When  it  was  ended  Eva  went 
back  to  her  sitting-room,  ensconced  herself  in  a 
comfortable  chair,  and  after  reading  Roland's  letter 
through  again,  and  kissing  it  many  times,  plunged 
into  the  pages  of  a  love-story  that  Charlotte  had 
found  for  her  in  the  library. 

The  book  was  so  suited  to  her  frame  of  mind  that 
she  read  a  long  time.  She  was  accustomed  to  re- 
quire the  services  of  her  maid  at  frequent  intervals, 
for  in  that  house  she  had  grown  accustomed  to  all 
the  attentions  usually  given  to  a  young  lady  of 
wealth.  But  this  evening,  falling  into  a  reverie  that 
she  did  not  wish  disturbed,  she  removed  her  cloth- 
ing without  assistance.  Then,  donning  a  white 
night-dress,  and  slipping  over  it  a  chamber  gown, 
she  put  a  pair  of  worsted  slippers  on  her  stocking- 
less  feet,  and  curled  up  in  the  easy  chair  again. 


186  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

Her  hair  floated  about  her  shoulders  like  a  clout.. 
She  meant  to  have  Charlotte  braid  it  before  she 
went  to  sleep,  but  for  the  present  the  novel  filled  all 
her  thoughts.  There  was  a  young  man  in  it  that 
made  her  think  of  Roland,  and — wonder  of  wonders  ! 
— a  cruel  uncle  who  threatened  to  disinherit  him  if 
he  married  against  his  will.  But  the  young  man — 
exactly  like  Roland  again — declared  on  every  third 
page  that  nothing  should  win  him  from  the  girl  he 
loved. 

There  came  a  tap  at  the  door.  What  a  nuisance  ! 
Charlotte  should  know  better  than  to  appear  when 
she  was  not  rung  for.  Eva  was  at  the  most  enter- 
taining part  of  the  story. 

"  Come  in  !"  she  called,  without  lifting  her  eyes 
from  the  page.  As  the  door  swung  slowly  open  she 
added,  "Sit  down,  and  don't  speak  till  I  finish  this 
chapter.  I  never  read  anything  so  interesting.  It 
seems  exactly  like  my  own  case." 

It  was  not  Charlotte,  but  Willard  Linnette.  He 
had  come  straight  from  his  conference  with  Tom 
Hobbs,  resolved  to  take  this  girl  to  task  for  her  con- 
duct in  reference  to  his  nephew,  and  to  wring  from 
her  a  confession  as  to  its  extent.  He  was  not  going 
to  be  made  a  fool  of  by  this  child  any  longer.  She 
should  not  aid  his  graceless  nephew  to  insult  him.  He 
would  soon  decide  whether  his  fortune  should  go  to 
her,  or  whether  she  was  as  unworthy  as  the  one  he 
had  disinherited. 

He  had  loved  this  girl.  He  had  been  mad  over 
her.  He  had  been  very  near  to  bringing  on  himself 
the  derision  of  the  world,  as  an  old  man  who  had  sue* 


nr  «VA'S  CHAMBER.  187 

combed  to  the  charms  of  a  child.  For  three  years  he 
had  seen  nothing  but  her  beauty,  he  had  cared  for 
nothing  so  much  as  her  smile.  It  was  Tom  Hobbs 
who  had  revealed  to  him  the  extent  of  his  devotion — 
the  fact  that  he  loved  her  so  dearly  that  he  wanted 
to  clasp  her  in  his  arms  as  his  wedded  wife  !  But 
there  are  limitations  to  what  even  love  can  endure. 

If  the  last  guess  Hobbs  had  made  was  correct,  if 
she  had  been  more  to  his  nephew  than  a  virtuous 
girl  should  be,  he  would  find  it  out.  If  she  was 
determined  to  correspond  with  that  young  scoundrel, 
she  had  only  to  say  so,  and  he  would  have  done 
with  her.  Very  likely  he  had  been  on  the  verge  of 
idiocy  over  her  charms,  but  that  was  ended.  He 
would  know,  before  he  left  her  room,  whether  she 
was  still  worthy  his  affection  and  esteem,  or  whether 
he  must  cast  her  out  of  his  heart. 

These  were  the  thoughts  that  traversed  his  mind 
as  he  came  through  the  hallway  and  ascended  the 
stairs.  But,  as  he  opened  the  door,  in  response  to 
her  voice,  his  resolutions  weakened.  He  knew,  when 
his  glance  rested  upon  her,  that  she  had  not  intend- 
ed to  admit  anyone  but  her  mother  or  Charlotte. 
The  floating  hair,  the  neglige  costume,  the  pose,  all 
told  him  this.  Still  he  did  not  retreat,  nor  did  he 
inform  her  of  her  error.  He  was  glad  to  have  a 
minute  in  which  to  recover  himself.  They  had  been 
such  intimate  friends  that  he  did  not  believe  the 
condition  of  her  dress  would  disturb  her  unduly, 
when  she  discovered  her  mistake.  He  must  talk  to 
her,  now ;  he  could  not  wait  another  hour.  So  he 


188  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 

closed  the  door  softly  behind  him  and  took  his  chair 
near  it,  awaiting  her  pleasure. 

The  first  glance  decided  one  great  point.  He 
could  not  look  at  that  sweet  face  and  think  anything 
but  innocence  rested  there.  She  had  been  guilty  of 
no  graver  fault  than  indiscretion.  Hobbs  was  a 
wretch  to  suggest  such  a  possibility.  Mr.  Linnette's 
harsh  thoughts  began  to  fade  away.  He  knew  he 
could  not  say  half  he  had  meant  to,  nor  could  he 
assume  the  dictatorial  tone  he  had  intended  to  use. 
Before  she  raised  her  eyes  from  the  book,  he  wished 
heartily  that  he  had  taken  more  time  before  rushing 
so  heedlessly  into  her  presence. 

A  low  sigh  escaped  the  girl's  lips  as  she  finished 
the  chapter.  Her  hero  had  not  yet  had  the  happi- 
ness of  pressing  the  pretty  heroine  to  his  breast.  A 
hundred  barriers  rose  before  them  at  every  turn, 
intensely  aggravating  to  the  fair  young  reader,  who 
would  have  preferred  to  have  them  married  in  the 
first  chapter  and  relegated  to  a  life  of  bliss  forever 
after. 

"  Well,  Charlotte," — she  began. 

When  she  saw  who  her  visitor  was,  she  rose 
from  her  chair  with  a  look  that  was  far  from 
welcoming. 

"  Mr.  Linnette,"  she  said,  "  I  am  surprised  that 
you  should  come  into  my  room  in  this  manner.  If 
you  wished  to  see  me,  you  could  have  sent  me 
word." 

He  was  not  pleased  at  the  extreme  haughtiness 
with  which  she  spoke.  She  need  not  wholly  forget, 
he  thought,  what  she  owed  to  his  bounty.  His  tern- 


1H   EVA'S   CHAMBER.  189 

per  had  been  severely  tried  during  the  past  two 
days,  and  again  it  mastered  him. 

"  Why  this  distinction  ?"  he  answered,  coldly. 
"  I  knew  you  were  in  the  habit  of  receiving  gentle- 
men here — " 

The  attack  was  begun,  almost  before  he  knew  it. 
He  had  entered  on  a  campaign  from  which  there 
was  no  retreat.  With  one  great  flash  of  flame  he 
had  burned  his  bridges  behind  him. 

The  girlish  face  lit  up  with  indignation. 

"Gentlemen  !"  she  repeated. 

He  knew  that  she  questioned  the  plural,  but  he 
seized  his  opportunity. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said.  ,  "  The  term  was 
too  complimentary." 

The  girl's  bosom  rose  and  fell  rapidly. 

"  If  a  person  ever  came  here,"  she  replied,  "  it  was 
not  without  an  invitation,  nor  was  I  compelled  to 
receive  him  in  such  attire  as  this.  He  may  or  may 
not  be  a  '  gentleman,'  according  to  the  interpreta- 
tion put  upon  that  word.  To-day,  thanks  to  you, 
he  is  a  penniless  seeker  after  work  with  which  to 
support  himself.  But  it  requires  something  more 
than  money  to  make  a  true  gentleman  ;  and  I  feel 
justified  in  adding  that  your  present  conduct  does 
not  stamp  you  as  one." 

She  had  heard  from  Roland.  Her  words  proved 
that.  She  was  resolved  to  remain  his  friend.  This 
was  attested  by  her  manner. 

"  Your  words  are  meaningless,"  he  .replied,  his 
heart  growing  harder.  "  It  matters  little  whether 
you  wear  one  dress  or  another,  whether  my  coining 


190  LOTK    AT    SEVENTY. 

is  announced  or  not.  What  I  have  to  say  to  you 
is  of  the  utmost  moment,  and  must  not  be  delayed 
an  instant  longer." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders,  as  if  to  intimate  that 
he  might  go  on,  if  he  was  willing  to  do  so  after  the 
protest  she  had  made.  Wrapping  her  peignoir 
closer  around  her,  and  making  sure  that  her  feet 
were  invisible,  she  turned  a  passionless  face  toward 
him. 

"You  have  lived  in  my  house,"  continued  Mr.  Lin- 
nette,  "  for  three  years.  You  have  had  everything 
that  I  could  give  you.  There  has  been  nothing — " 

"Let  us  consider  that  understood,"  she  inter- 
rupted. "  And  let  me  remind  you  that  it  detracts 
greatly  from  the  value  of  a  gift  when  the  recipient  is 
reminded  of  it." 

The  old  man's  brows  contracted. 

"  I  have  never  alluded  to  it  before,"  he  retorted, 
"  and  I  only  do  so  now  because  it  is  a  necessary  pre- 
lude to  what  I  intend  to  say." 

"  If  the  rest  is  not  more  agreeable  than  the  pre- 
lude, I  hope  it  will  be  brief,"  was  her  calm  reply. 

At  that  he  broke  forth  hotly  that  he  had  a  right 
to  speak  to  her  ;  that  he  was  in  effect  the  guardian 
of  her  reputation  ;  that  he  should  be  remiss  in  his 
duty  when  he  found  her  making  a  serious  mistake  if 
he  did  not  inform  her  of  it.  He  then  went  on,  not 
giving  her  time  to  interrupt  him,  to  speak  of  Miss  Ar- 
line,  whom  he  said  he  had  sent  away  from  Montvale 
to  save  her  from  Roland.  He  alluded  to  the  collection 
of  photographs  which  his  nephew  had  brought  home 
from  Europe,  of  his  hundred  sweethearts  in  foreign 


IK   EVA'S   CHAMBER.  191 

lands,  "  white,  black,  yellow  and  brown."  He 
declared  that  no  good  girl  was  safe  in  his  company. 
Roland  was  capable  of  making  love  until  her  head 
was  turned,  and  then  deserting  her  without  mercy. 
Lately  he  had  conducted  himself  in  such  a  manner 
that  his  uncle  felt  obliged  to  cast  him  off. 

Then  he  referred  to  the  visit  his  nephew  had  made 
her.  He  said  Roland  knew — acquainted  with  the 
world  as  he  was — that  he  had  committed  a  most 
flagrant  breach  of  good  morals  ;  and  the  speaker 
^averred  that  no  man  could  do  less  than  denounce 
such  an  act,  though  the  perpetrator  were  one  of  his 
nearest  blood  relations. 

Eva  listened  to  all  this  without  changing  her  posi- 
tion, and  with  no  evidence  of  special  surprise. 
When  Mr.  Linnette  paused  for  breath  she  kept 
perfect  silence. 

"  What  have  you  to  say  ?"  he  demanded. 

"Nothing." 

"  You  do  not  object  to  these  things  !" 

"  I  do  not  believe  them." 

He  had  expected  anything  but  this  cool  response. 
It  was  almost  as  if  she  had  called  him  a  liar  in  set 
terms. 

"  He  has  bewitched  you  !"  he  cried. 

A  smile  came  over  her  pretty  mouth. 

"I  think  you  are  right,"  she  replied.  "I  lore 
Roland  too  much  to  credit  anything  against  him." 

What  a  wall  of  adamant  she  was  ! 

"  Supposing  I  showed  you  proofs  ?" 

"  I  would  not  look  at  them." 

u  If  I  brought  you  witnesses  ?" 


192  LOVE  AT  SEVENTY. 

"  I  would  not  listen." 

These  answers  made  him  quite  beside  himself 
with  rage. 

"  You  shall  never  lower  yourself  by  marrying  that 
boy  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  And  I  will  tell  you  another 
thing  :  I  have  arranged  to  have  my  will  re-drawn, 
so  that  you  should  inherit  my  wealth,  which  he  has 
forfeited  by  his  conduct.  If  you  persist  in  this 
insane  folly  I  will  give  you  nothing!" 

Eva  laughed,  actually  laughed  at  him. 

"When  Roland  is  ready  he  will  come  for  me,"  she 
said.  "  He  will  come  for  me,  and  I  shall  go  with 
him.  He  is  under  no  obligations  to  you  now.  You 
cannot  frighten  him  any  more.  Yes,  you  may  as 
well  understand." 

Mr.  Linnette  stared  stupidly  at  the  girl. 

"Would  you  give  up  a  million  dollars  for  him?" 
he  asked,  gutturally. 

"  Indeed,  yes  !     A  hundred  millions  !" 

It  rose  to  his  lips  to  tell  her  that  she  might  go 
from  under  his  roof  at  once  ;  that  he  would  harbor 
such  an  ungrateful  thing  no  longer ;  but  he  re- 
strained himself.  Before  proceeding  to  such  an 
extremity  he  wanted  to  talk  with  Mrs.  Warren. 

He  rose,  hesitated  a  moment,  tried  to  speak,  and 
then  left  the  chamber.  He  had  accomplished 
nothing,  and  less  than  nothing. 

And  Tom  Hobbs  knew  as  much,  before  a  word 
was  spoken,  when  his  employer  re-entered  the 
library  and  found  him  there,  smoking  his  pipe  in 
3ilenc«. 


"  OONFOUWD  HIS  MONBY  !"  193 


CHAPTER  XX.  , 

"  CONFOUND    HIS   MONEY  !" 

When  Guy  met  Maud  Arline  on  the  evening  fol- 
lowing the  troubles  in  Mr.  Linnette's  office  he  gave 
her  a  rather  full  account  of  what  had  occurred  there, 
besides  narrating  as  much  as  was  necessary  of  the 
circumstances  which  had  led  up  to  the  final  catas- 
trophe. The  girl  listened  silently  as  he  told  the 
story  of  Eva  Warren,  of  Roland's  wild  infatuation 
for  her,  of  his  uncle's  wrath,  of  the  letter  sent  to  his 
care,  and  of  the  complete  rupture  between  the  rela- 
tions. She  hardly  tasted  the  food  set  before  her, 
though  her  appetite  for  the  palatable  French  dinner 
which  they  were  now  in  the  habit  of  taking  together 
was  generally  good.  Guy  was  flattered  by  the  close 
attention  she  gave  him.  and  rattled  on  for  fully  ten 
minutes,  pausing  only  long  enough  to  take  an  occas- 
ional mouthful  of  the  soup  or  fish. 

"  I  was  so  sorry  that  I  didn't  know  what  to  do," 
he  said,  after  describing  the  manner  in  which  Ro- 
land and  he  had  left  the  office.  "  He  says  I'm  not 
the  least  bit  to  blame,  but  I  can't  help  thinking  I 
am." 

He  looked  at  Maud  as  if  he  wanted  her  opinion  on 
the  subject,  and  she  replied,  in  a  low  voice,  that  she 
could  not  see  how  he  could  have  acted  differently. 

**  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  said  he,  as  if  re- 


194  LOYE   AT   SBVKlfTT. 

lieved.  "He  has  done  so  much  for  me  that  I  shall 
always  feel  indebted  to  him.  But  now  I  have  some- 
thing to  tell  you  that  will,  it  is  possible,  interest  you 
even  more  than  the  recital  I  have  already  made.  It 
concerns  yourself." 

Maud  roused  herself  from  the  lethargy  into  which 
she  had  fallen  and  inquired  what  Dalton  meant. 

"When  we  found  ourselves,  both  together,  thrown 
out  upon  the  world,"  he  answered,  "  we  went  down 
to  his  rooms  and  held  a  council  of  war.  The  agree- 
ment that  we  reached  was  to  share  everything  we 
had  and  all  we  could  earn,  for  he  is  going  to  look 
for  work  as  well  as  I.  Our  greatest  watchword 
necessarily  being  economy,  we  began  to  consider 
what  was  the  most  frugal  way  of  living,  outside  of  a 
cheap  boarding-house,  which  Roland  would  not 
think  of  for  a  moment.  We  finally  decided  to  rent 
a  low-priced  flat,  and  to  engage  a  housekeeper." 

The  girl's  eyes  opened  wider  as  she  heard  this 
statement.  Guy  noticed  their  peculiar  expression, 
and  stopped  to  inquire  whether  she  saw  any  objec- 
tions to  the  plan. 

"  I  am  afraid  a  good  housekeeper,  such  as  you 
would  require,  is  not  the  easiest  thing  to  find,"  she 
said.  "  You  need  an  experienced  woman,  to  begin 
with  ;  one  who  would  look  out  for  your  interests  ; 
and  you  could  not  afford,  I  suppose,  to  pay  very  high 
wages." 

Guy  was  obliged  to  laugh  at  her  description. 

"I  think  we  know  just  where  the  right  person  can 
be  found,"  he  replied.  "  She  certainly  has  had  ex- 
perience, for  she  was  employed  several  months  in  a 


0  OOHFOUHD   HIS    MONBT  !"  195 

country  hotel.  She  would  look  out  for  our  interests, 
because  she  knows  us  intimately  and  would  share 
our  home  on  equal  terms.  As  for  compensation,  she 
is  not  at  the  present  time  earning  much  more  than 
her  living.  She  would  be  much  better  off  managing 
a  home  of  her  own,  for  such  it  really  would  be,  besides 
doing  a  genuine  kindness  to  two  stranded  young 
men." 

It  was  more  than  a  minute  before  Maud  spoke 
again.  She  could  not  fail  to  understand  that  he 
referred  to  her,  and  at  first  she  shrank  from  the  pro- 
position with  a  vague  dread.  More  than  this,  she  did 
not  know  as  she  had  a  right  to  live  under  the  same 
roof  with  Mr.  Linnette's  nephew.  It  was  hardly 
keeping  faith  with  his  uncle.  However,  since  their 
rupture,  the  latter  would  have  little  further  interest 
in  him  so  far  as  she  was  concerned. 

She  remembered  also,  very  vividly,  the  nervous 
tension  at  which  Roland  had  kept  her  when  she 
officiated  as  his  waitress  at  Montvale.  But  if  he  was 
as  deeply  in  love  with  Miss  Warren  as  his  actions 
implied,  he  would  not  be  likely  to  trouble  her  much. 
To  tell  the  truth,  she  was  very  tired  of  her  milliner's 
shop,  where  the  promised  advance  in  wages  had  not 
materialized.  Her  solitary  room — when  Guy  was 
not  there — was  excessively  lonely.  The  only  bright 
spot  in  her  existence  was  the  dinners  they  took 
together,  and  these  would  be  lost  if  he  adopted  his 
housekeeping  plan  and  she  did  not  share  it.  It  would 
be  delightful,  after  the  discomforts  she  had  suffered, 
to  have  a  home,  no  matter  how  poor  or  humble. 


LOVE    AT  SEVKNTT. 


"You  mean  me,"  she  said,  looking  up  at  h«f 
companion. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  earnestly,  "  that  is  just  what  I 
mean.  Roland  was  the  one  who  first  thought  of 
you,  but  I  saw  in  an  instant  what  a  fine  thing  it 
would  be.  Neither  of  us  has  anything  to  brag  of  in 
the  way  of  expectations,  but  we  shall  do  our  best. 
If  you  say  it  is  settled  we  will  look  for  aflat  immedi- 
ately, and  begin  to  pick  out  the  pans  and  kettles  for 
your  new  kitchen." 

Maud  wanted  to  think  of  the  matter  for  another 
day,  but  Guy  was  so  persistent,  and  represented  the 
scheme  in  such  bright  colors,  that  before  he  left  her 
that  night  she  had  given  her  full  consent. 

Within  a  week  the  flat  was  secured,  a  set  of  diminu- 
tive rooms  up  three  flights  of  stairs  on  Sixth  Street, 
overlooking  some  picturesque  if  not  over-clean  back 
yards  of  the  neighborhood.  When  Roland's  furni- 
ture was  moved  in,  and  the  necessary  purchases 
made,  the  place  looked  remarkably  cosy.  There  was 
a  striking  incongruity  between  some  of  the  expen- 
sive things  he  brought  and  some  of  the  very  cheap 
ones  they  had  to  purchase,  but  all  three  of  the  new 
tenants  were  in  too  good  humor  to  find  anything 
but  amusement  in  this  fact.  A  diamond  pin  had 
been  sacrificed  at  the  first  start  to  replenish  the 
exchequer,  and  it  was  announced  with  positive  glee 
that  a  balance  of  $77  was  in  the  treasury,  with  every- 
thing paid  for,  including  an  advance  month's  rent  of 
the  premises. 

It  was  admitted  on  all  sides  that  Maud  developed 
wonderful  capacity.  Roland  declared  with  enthu- 


"OONFOUHD   HIS    MONET  P  197 

siasm  that  he  had  never  dined  better,  even  in  the  days 
when  he  made  the  grand  tour.  The  coffee  she  pre- 
pared in  the  morning  was  decidedly  superior,  he 
solemnly  averred,  to  that  served  by  any  femme  de 
chambre  in  dear  Paree.  He  liked  to  sit  in  the  kitchen 
and  watch  her,  with  her  sleeves  rolled  up,  at  the 
dish-pan  or  the  bread-board,  when  Guy  was  out 
scouring  the  town  in  search  of  something  to  do. 
And  his  manners  were  so  good,  and  his  temper  so 
equable,  that  he  became  as  agreeable  a  companion 
as  could  be  asked. 

He  had  a  shrewd  way  of  seeming  to  admit  Guy's 
proprietorship  in  Maud,  though  he  never  actually 
made  any  allusion  to  it.  Believing  that  they  en- 
joyed themselves  better  alone,  he  got  into  the  habit, 
when  the  six  o'clock  dinner  was  over,  of  going  out 
"  to  see  a  friend,"  and  seldom  returning  before  ten 
at  the  earliest.  But  if  he  heard  that  Guy  intended 
to  walk  out  with  Maud,  he  would  take  a  book  or 
magazine  and  settle  himself  in  their  bijou  of  a 
parlor,  announcing  that  he  would  spend  the  evening 
at  home.  The  apprehensions  that  Dalton  had  felt 
were  soon  lulled  into  perfect  repose  by  the  admirable 
conduct  of  his  friend. 

Though  Roland  did  not  apply  in  person  for  any 
situation,  he  wrote  a  number  of  letters  in  response 
to  newspaper  advertisements.  One  of  the  reasons 
he  gave  for  remaining  at  home  so  much  during  the 
day  was  that  he  wanted  to  be  in  when  the  mail 
arrived.  If  he  were  sent  for  in  haste,  he  wished  to 
be  ready  to  respond.  But  the  letters  he  deposited  in 
the  box  over  the  way  were  much  more  numerous 


198  LOVE   AT    SEVENTY. 

than  those  which  the  postman  brought.  The  only 
one  he  was  sure  of  came  three  times  a  week  from 
Montvale  and  was  answered  as  regularly. 

In  one  of  these  letters  he  learned  of  the  visit  that 
Mr.  Linnette  made  to  Eva,  though  she  did  not  give 
a  full  account  of  all  that  passed  between  them. 
"  He  assured  me,"  she  wrote,  "  that  you  were  a  very 
naughty  fellow,  but  I  refused  to  listen,  though  I  fear 
he  had  some  basis  of  truth  for  what  he  wanted  to 
say.  I  told  him  to  his  face  that  I  loved  you  ;  that 
nothing  would  ever  make  me  change  ;  and  that  as 
soon  as  you  were  ready  for  me  I  should  marry  you. 
Then  he  threatened,  saying  that  he  had  intended  to 
leave  me  all  his  money,  but  that  now  I  shall  get  noth- 
ing. As  if  that  would  make  any  difference  !  I  fear 
he  will  be  unpleasant  to  Mamma,  and  perhaps  she 
will  join  forces  with  him.  People  used  to  say  he 
meant  to  marry  her.  I  wish  he  would,  for  she  wor- 
ries me  very  much.  She  is  so  afraid  of  poverty  that 
she  lies  awake  nights  thinking  of  it.  Keep  up  good 
courage,  darling.  All  will  come  out  right  in  time." 

In  a  subsequent  letter  she  made  the  interesting 
statement  that  Tom  Hobbs  had  asked  Charlotte  for 
Roland's  address,  and  that  the  girl,  suspecting  some 
trick  of  Mr.  Linnette's,  had  given  him  an  evasive 
reply,  pretending  that  she  did  not  know  it.  This 
set  Roland  to  thinking.  He  had  known  Tom  from 
babyhood.  They  had  been  unusually  good  friends, 
and  he  did  not  believe  anything  would  persuade  the 
old  man  to  injure  him.  If  Hobbs  wanted  his  address 
it  must  be  for  some  good  reason.  At  dinner  that 
evening  he  talked  the  matter  over  with  Dalton. 


"  CONFOUHD   HIS   MOKET  !"  199 

"  He  is  a  shrewd  old  fellow,"  said  he,  "  and  there 
is  a  possibility  that  he  has  something  of  importance 
to  tell  me.  He's  a  poor  hand  at  letter  writing,  and 
the  best  way  to  get  at  the  bottom  of  the  matter 
would  be  to  see  him  personally.  But  the  trouble  is 
he's  not  much  of  a  traveller.  He  would  consider  a 
journey  to  New  York  as  serious  a  matter  as  I  should 
one  to  Australia.  I  don't  think  he's  been  ten  miles 
from  Montvale  in  thirty  years.  For  me  to  go  to 
him  has  its  difficulties  and  dangers.  So  you  see  I 
really  don't  know  what  to  do." 

Dalton  looked  as  if  the  problem  was  too  deep  for 
him,  while  Maud,  on  the  other  side  of  the  table, 
expressed  sympathy  in  her  sober  face. 

"I  say,  Guy  !  Couldn't  you  run  up  there  for  a 
day  or  two  ?"  exclaimed  Roland,  suddenly. 

"  I  ?"  said  Dalton. 

"  To  be  sure.  You  would  not  run  the  slightest 
risk.  Hobbs  may  have  something  to  say  that  we 
ought  to  hear.  And  then — I  could  even  arrange  an 
interview  for  you  with  Eva  !  They  will  not  watch 
her  so  closely  when  they  know  I'm  out  of  town." 

Guy  was  much  confused  at  these  propositions.  It 
was  not  at  all  clear  that  he  could  accomplish  any- 
thing by  the  journey.  But  he  wanted  to  please 
Roland,  and  he  responded  at  once  that  he  would  go. 

"  I  shall  be  only  too  happy,"  he  said.  "  Tell  me 
what  you  wish  me  to  do." 

Miss  Arline  moved  her  chair  back  a  little  from  the 
table,  and  waited  for  the  conversation  to  proceed. 
The  young  men  had  no  secrets  from  her. 

"  Here  is  the  case,"  said  Roland,  in  a  business- 


200  LOVE  AT  BSTENTT. 

like  tone.  "My  uncle  has  threatened  me  with  disin- 
heritance. When  I  told  him  to  go  to  the  devif  with 
his  money,  and  give  it  to  whom  he  pleased,  he  re- 
plied that  he  meant  to  will  it  all  to  Miss  Eva  War- 
ren. That  did  not  sound  so  terribly,  for  in  the 
course  of  time  I  felt  pretty  certain  to  get  it  back 
again.  To  prevent  this  possibility  he  has  informed 
the  young  lady  that  if  she  ever  becomes  my  wife  lie 
will  cut  her  off  also.  Now,"  proceeded  Roland, 
placing  both  his  elbows  on  the  table,  and  looking 
from  one  to  the  other  of  his  auditors,  "  talk  as  \ve 
may  under  the  excitement  of  outraged  pride,  a  mil- 
lion dollars  is  worth  preserving  if  it  can  be  done 
without  too  great  a  sacrifice.  It  appears  that  Tom 
Hobbs  has  some  communication  to  make  to  me 
Tom  has  an  immense  influence  over  Mr.  Willard 
Linnette.  My  uncle  would  do  nothing  so  important 
as  the  making  of  a  new  will  without  consulting  Tom. 
In  my  opinion  that  is  exactly  what  the  superinten- 
dent wants  to  see  me  about.  I  will  send  him  a  note 
by  you,  asking  him  to  unveil  the  whole  affair.  Then 
if  it  turns  out  to  be  anything  requiring  my  presence 
I  shall  go  at  once." 

Guy  was  rather  surprised  to  see  Roland's  anxiety 
about  his  uncle's  fortune,  remembering  the  haughty 
way  in  which  he  had  flung  the  gauntlet  at  his  kins- 
man's feet.  It  was  true,  however,  as  he  said,  that 
one  might  get  over-excited  and  think  better  of 
things,  when  time  had  cooled  him  off.  The  ill-luck 
in  finding  a  situation  where  he  could  earn  something, 
had,  no  doubt,  affected  his  views. 


"CONFOTTZfD  HIS   MONET!"  201 

"Do  you  wish  me  to  indicate  in  what  way  you 
would  modify  your  position  ?"  asked  Guy. 

"  Modify  my  position  !" 

"Yes,  in  order  to  save  the  money." 

Roland  struck  his  fist  heavily  on  the  dining-table. 

"  Confound  his  money  !  I  don't  want  that  old 
man  to  make  a  fool  of  himself,  that's  all.  When  he 
threw  me  up  I  didn't  say  a  word.  It's  a  different 
thing  when  the  loss  is  Eva's.  If  I'm  not  to  have  the 
property  I  want  her  to  get  it." 

"  So  that  you  can  share  it  with  her  later,"  said 
Dalton,  insinuatingly. 

Roland  could  not  help  laughing,  like  one  detected 
in  a  sly  game. 

"  Well,  that's  not  so  criminal,  is  it  ?"  he  said.  "  My 
uncle  is  growing  aged.  I  don't  understand  what  has 
set  him  so  severely  against  me.  If  he  hadn't  ac- 
quired a  prejudice  from  some  unknown  source  he 
would  never  have  been  so  violent.  Hobbs  knows 
him  like  a  book  and  may  have  a  key  to  the  riddle." 

Guy  indicated  his  belief  that  this  might  prove 
true,  and  the  pair  then  proceeded  to  plan  a  way  by 
which  he  could  meet  Miss  Warren. 

"  What  shall  I  say  to  her  if  I'm  able  to  get  within 
speaking  distance  ?"  Guy  asked. 

"  Oh,  I  leave  that  to  you,"  was  the  reply.  "  You 
know  the  entire  situation.  She  will  ask  you  a  hun- 
dred questions,  which  you  must  use  your  judgment 
in  answering.  Touch  lightly  on  the  fact  that  I  am 
still  a  distinguished  member  of  the  Knights  of  Rest. 
If  she  don't  think  that  any  too  creditable  of  me,  and 
believes  it's  easy  to  fall  into  a  salaried  position  in 


202  LOVE   AT    SEVENTY. 

this  town,  let  her  come  here  and  try.  Now,  the 
sooner  you  go,  the  better.  I  am  impatient  to  hear 
what  Hobbs  has  to  say.  Why  can't  you  start 
to-morrow  ?" 

<;  I  can,"  replied  Daltoo. 

"  And  will  you  ?" 

"  I  will." 


GUT   TAKES    A    JOURNET.  203 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

GUY    TAKES   A  JOURNEY. 

The  proprietor  of  Montvale  was  ill  at  ease. 
Though  the  postmaster  and  himself  were  thrown 
completely  off  the  true  scent  by  the  plan  which  had 
been  adopted,  he  felt  certain  that  Eva  was  sending 
letters  to  his  nephew  and  receiving  replies.  The 
girl's  cheerfulness  at  the  table,  the  only  place  where 
he  now  saw  her,  convinced  him  that  he  was  being 
outwitted.  Since  the  night  when  he  went  to  her 
chamber  she  had  only  spoken  to  him  in  the  briefest 
manner,  and  the  quietness  in  the  dining-room  at 
meal-time  was  oppressive.  Mrs.  Warren,  though  she 
did  her  best,  could  not  add  anything  to  her  em- 
ployer's stock  of  information.  Eva  was  uniformly 
courteous  to  her  mother,  but  managed  to  evade  a 
direct  answer  to  all  questions. 

"What  an  idea!"  she  would  exclaim,  when  the 
matter  of  letter-writing  was  mentioned.  "  Doesn't 
all  the  mail  for  the  house  pass  through  your 
hands  ?" 

Mr.  Linnette  could  not  help  talking  occasionally 
abaut  his  troubles  with  old  Tom  Hobbs.  He  did 
not  receive  much  sympathy  from  that  eccentric 
person,  but  it  was  better  even  to  be  abused  than  to 
be  without  any  confidant  whatever.  Thanks  to 
Tom,  the  threatened  changes  in  the  will  had  not  j"«* 


S04:  LOVB   AT   SEVENTY. 

been  made.  Hobbs  insisted  that  the  present  was  no 
time  for  alterations.  Mr.  Linnette,  he  said,  should 
at  least  wait  until  he  had  made  up  his  mind  whom 
to  sacrifice  and  whom  to  benefit  before  he  set  his 
lawyers  at  work. 

There  was  so  much  sense  in  this  suggestion  that 
the  manufacturer  could  not  help  acting  upon  it  ; 
though  he  remarked,  with  a  grimace,  that  it  would 
not  be  agreeable  if  some  complaint  should  carry 
him  off,  leaving  all  his  property  to  be  handed  over 
to  his  scamp  of  a  nephew.  To  which  Hobbs  replied 
that  he  did  not  look  like  a  man  liable  to  sudden 
death,  and  that  he  was  quite  as  likely  to  outlive 
both  his  former  intended  beneficiaries  as  to  precede 
them  to  the  other  world. 

While  laboring  to  secure  the  longest  delay  pos- 
sible, in  the  interest  of  Roland,  for  whom  he  had 
always  entertained  a  warm  liking,  Hobbs  grew  un- 
easy over  the  present  financial  condition  of  the 
young  man.  He  thought  it  a  great  hardship  to  be 
deprived  of  his  income,  after  the  way  he  had  been 
brought  up,  with  no  alternative  but  work,  or  some 
disreputable  method  of  getting  a  living.  If  Roland 
found  the  former  plan  too  difficult,  it  was  not  impos- 
sible that  he  would  be  driven  to  the  latter.  It  was 
with  this  in  mind  that  Hobbs  tried  to  get  Roland's 
address  from  Eva's  maid.  He  had  lived  a  thrifty- 
life  and  had  a  snug  little  sum  laid  by.  He  wanted 
to  offer  assistance  out  of  his  own  funds  to  enable 
Roland  to  tide  over  the  emergency,  which  he  could 
not  help  believing  would  be  only  temporary. 

To  effect  this  result  it  was  necessary  to  move  with 


OUT   TAKES   A  JOURNEY.  205 

caution.  Willard  Linnette  would  not  be  likely  to 
fancy  a  direct  interference  in  his  affairs.  Hobbs  did 
not  like  Eva  well  enough  to  confide  too  much  in  her, 
and  when  his  attempt  failed  with  Charlotte  he  was 
at  a  total  loss  which  way  to  turn.  But  one  very 
dark  night,  just  as  he  was  about  to  retire,  the  door- 
bell of  his  house  was  rung.  On  being  called  he 
found  Guy  Dalton  awaiting  him,  with  a  letter  from 
the  "  young  master"  in  his  hand. 

"  And  so  he  sent  you,  clear  from  New  York  !'* 
said  Hobbs,  when  he  had  read  the  brief  note  of  intro- 
duction. "  Come  in  and  sit  down.  It's  almost  nine 
o'clock  and  I  was  going  to  bed.  How  did  you  get 
here  so  late  ?  I  suppose  you  came  on  the  six  o'clock, 
and  have  been  to  supper  at  the  hotel  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  Dalton.  "  I  did  not  wish  any- 
one at  Montvale  to  set  me  ;  so  I  left  the  train  at 
Ellsworth,  where  I  got  a  lunch,  and  then  walked 
over." 

Hobbs  eyed  him  intently.  He  looked  a  great  deal 
better  than  he  used,  when  he  was  employed  in  the 
Works.  Life  in  the  city  evidently  agreed  with  him. 
It  was  a  long  walk  from  Ellsworth. 

"Walked  over?"  repeated  Hobbs.  "Why,  it's 
seven  miles  !" 

"It  didn't  seem  so  long.  The  walking  is  good.  I 
didn't  mind  it  at  all.  I  expect  to  go  over  the  same 
road  again  to-night  when  I  leave  you." 

Hobbs  protested  that  a  walk  of  fourteen  mile* 
was  altogether  too  long  for  anyone,  but  Guy  smiled 
confidently,  saying  that  he  was  quite  used  to  it,  and, 
in  fact,  enjoyed  the  prospect.  He  then,  in  response 


206  LOVE    AT    SEVENTY. 

to  inquiries,  told  the  whole  story  of  Roland's  life 
since  he  left  the  village,  including,  with  particular 
detail,  an  account  of  the  trouble  in  his  uncle's  office. 

"And  doesn't  he  show  the  least  desire  to  make 
up  ?"  demanded  the  superintendent. 

"  No.  But  you  must  remember  Mr.  Linnette  has 
made  no  overtures,  either." 

"  They  are  the  biggest  pair  of  fools  ever  born  !" 
replied  Hobbs.  "  The  old  man  is  the  worst  one,  of 
course,  but  the  boy  is  not  far  behind  him.  When 
he  knew  what  a  crank  his  uncle  was,  why  couldn't 
he  agree  to  anything,  no  matter  what,  until  the  wind 
took  another  direction  ?  A  million  dollars  doesn't 
grow  on  every  bush  !  I've  had  all  I  could  do  to  stop 
the  destruction  of  the  will  by  which  Linnette  left  his 
property  to  his  nephew,  which  would  leave  in  force 
an  old  one  bequeathing  everything  to  some  cannibal 
missionaries." 

Guy  remarked,  as  an  explanation  of  his  friend's 
conduct,  that  he  was  devotedly  attached  to  Miss 
Warren,  and  could  not  bear  to  see  anyone  insult  a 
communication  that  she  had  written. 

"  Stuff  !"  ejaculated  Hobbs.  "  Nothing  but  stuff  ! 
There  are  a  thousand  better  girls,  if  he  would  only 
look  about  him.  He's  exactly  like  his  uncle — always 
wanting  what  he  can't  have,  because  he  can't  have  it. 
I've  a  good  notion  to  tell  you  something — for  your 
own  information,  mind  you  !  not  his.  Can  you  keep 
a  secret  ?" 

Dalton  replied  that  he  thought  he  could. 

"Then  keep  this  one.  Will  Linnette,  seventy 
years  old  as  he  is,  loves  that  little  girl  himself.  He 


GUT   T-A.IK8    A   JOUEK«T.  207 

would  marry  her  to-morrow  if  she  would  accept 
him." 

The  listener  was  plainly  shocked. 

"  Are  you  sure  ?"  he  gasped. 

"Sure?  Don't  I  know  him,  soul  and  body  ?  Was 
there  ever  anything  in  his  head  he  could  keep  from 
me  if  he  tried?  Look  at  his  pretenses.  He  brings 
up  his  nephew's  immoralities,  and  makes  a  great 
fuss  about  them.  But  he  knew  all  that  long  ago 
and  passed  them  off  for  what  they  are,  the  peccadil- 
loes of  a  young  man.  Roland  might  have  gone  on 
in  his  own  way  as  long  as  he  lived  if  he  hadn't  come 
between  the  old  man  and  his  sweetheart.  Now,  this 
must  be  a  secret  between  us.  I  don't  know  what 
would  happen  if  Roland  found  it  out." 

Guy  promised  again  to  say  nothing  about  the 
matter. 

"  Well,"  continued  Hobbs,  "  all  this  is  not  to  the 
point.  What  is  the  boy  living  on,  and  how  does  he 
expect  to  meet  his  bills  ?" 

To  this  inquiry  Guy  responded  with  the  utmost 
frankness.  He  told  how  they  had  got  along  thus 
far,  but  admitted  that  their  funds  were  steadily 
running  lower  and  that  there  were  no  means  in  sight 
for  replenishing  them. 

"Then  he  must  take  a  loan  from  me,"  said  Hobbs, 
with  decision.  "  I  don't  ask  him  to  accept  a  gift, 
but  he  must  borrow  what  he  needs  until  something 
better  turns  up.  Tell  him  to  write  me,  whenever  he 
wants  anything,  and  I  will  see  that  he  gets  it." 

The  two  men  went  out  to  the  front  yard  together, 


208  LOVE  AT  SEVBNTY. 

as  Dalton  said  he  must  be  going.     The  night  was 

not  a  clear  one  and  they  were  unobserved. 

"  You  weren't  brought  up  around  these  parts,  I 
take  it,"  remarked  the  elder  man,  with  an  inquisitive 
inflection. 

"  No,"  said  Guy.     •«  I  used  to  live  in  Vermont." 

"  Ah !  I  was  up  that  way  once.  It  was  a  long 
while  ago.  What  town  did  you  come  from,  now  ?" 

"  Ryegate." 

Hobbs  loosened  his  hold  of  the  gate,  which  he  had 
pulled  back,  and  the  spring  slammed  it  in  its  place 
noisily. 

"  Sho  !  You  don't  say.  There's  several  of  them 
Ryegates.  It  wasn't  East  Ryegate,  was  it  ?" 

"  Yes,"  was  the  listless  reply.  "  It  was  East 
Ryegate." 

The  moon  peeped  out  of  the  clouds  just  enough 
to  light  the  faces  of  the  two  men.  Guy  was  look- 
ing at  the  ground,  impatient  to  be  off,  as  he  had 
another  call  to  make  that  evening,  and  it  was  getting 
late.  Hobbs  observed  him  with  renewed  interest. 

"  And  your  name  is  Dalton  ?"  he  said,  inter- 
rogatively. 

"  Y-e-s." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear,"  began  Hobbs,  slowly,  "  of  a 
family  up  that  way  by  the  name  of  Lincoln  ?" 

Guy  raised  his  eyes,  with  quick  suspicion  in  their 
gaze,  and  slowly  responded  in  the  affirmative. 

"  There  were  two  women  of  that  name  there  once," 
soliloquized  the  superintendent.  "  One  of  them 
died,  a  long  time  ago.  The  other—" 

«*  Died,  too." 


GUT   TAKES  A   JOURNEY.  209 

"  Did  she  ?"  said  Hobbs.  "  How  long  ago  was 
that  ?" 

"  Eight  years,  I  should  think,"  replied  Dalton. 
Then  he  took  several  steps  that  brought  him  outside 
the  gate,  and  with  a  short  "  Good-by,"  started  on 
the  Ellsworth  road. 

A  village  clock  was  striking  ten.  Guy  felt  reason- 
ably certain  that  he  had  not  been  seen  by  any  per- 
son except  Mr.  Hobbs,  since  entering  the  precincts 
of  Montvale,  the  residents  being  of  that  rural  order 
who  have  a  proverb  that  no  honest  person  is  out  of 
doors  after  nine  at  night.  But  though  he  started  on 
the  road  to  Ellsworth  he  did  not  long  continue  in 
that  direction.  As  soon  as  he  dared  he  bent  his 
steps  by  a  circuitous  route  to  the  rear  of  Willard 
Linnette's  estate. 

A  letter  from  her  lover  had  informed  Eva  Warren 
that  Guy  would  be  in  Montvale  that  evening,  and 
had  asked  her  to  see  that  Charlotte  kept  watch  at 
the  familiar  door  in  the  wall  that  had  played  such 
an  important  part  before  in  the  meetings  of  the 
young  couple.  The  girl  was  more  than  anxious  to 
communicate  with  this  messenger,  and  no  place 
seemed  safer  for  the  purpose  than  her  own  rooms, 
now  again  free  from  the  suspicion  of  those  who  had 
watched  her.  The  maid  was  on  the  alert,  and  her 
ears  detected  the  first  sound  that  was  made  on  the 
panel.  The  visitor  was  smuggled  through  the  dark- 
ness, and  reached  Eva's  chamber  without  attracting 
the  attention  of  anyone  else. 

As  Guy's  eyes  fell  on  his  hostess,  he  thought  he 
had  never  seen  anything  so  lovely.  She  was  arrayed 


210  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

entirely  in  white,  her  favorite.  Her  complexion,  re- 
minding him  of  a  creamy  rose  tinged  with  pink,  set 
off  the  bright  eyes  that  glowed  with  pleasure  and 
anticipation. 

"  So  this  is  Mr.  Dalton  ?" 

Charlotte  had  left  the  room  promptly,  and  they 
were  quite  alone.  In  a  moment  they  were  talking 
together  on  the  matters  in  relation  to  which  he  had 
come.  The  girl's  perfect  self-possession  made  it 
easy  for  him  to  converse  with  her.  He  felt  before 
he  had  been  in  the  house  ten  minutes  as  if  he  had 
known  her  for  years.  She  told  him  her  story  in  the 
frankest  manner,  and  asked  him  a  thousand  ques- 
tions about  Roland  and  himself. 

Everything  was  progressing  nicely,  when  Guy  pre- 
cipitated an  entirely  new  phase  of  the  discussion  by 
a  slip  of  the  tongue,  the  simple  mention  of  the  word 
"Maud,"  in  referring  to  the  new  household  that  the 
young  men  had  set  up. 

"  Maud?"  echoed  the  girl,  quickly. 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  realizing  instantly  that  a  new 
quality  had  come  into  her  voice.  "  Our  house- 
keeper." 

"  And  Arline  ?"  asked  Eva.  "  Is  her  name 
Arline  ?" 

Guy  stammered  that  it  was. 

"  She  was  at  the  Montvale  House  formerly,  I  be- 
lieve," mused  Eva. 

He  indicated  that  she  was  right  in  her  statement. 
And  he  wished  heartily  that  he  had  been  more 
careful. 


OUT    TAKES   A   JOURNEY.  211 

"  How  did  they  come  together  ?"  she  inquired, 
suspiciously. 

Finding  that  he  had  put  his  foot  in  it,  Guy  did 
the  best  he  could  by  claiming  Maud  as  his  own 
friend.  He  went  on  to  describe  her  situation  in  the 
great  city,  hardly  able  to  earn  enough  to  keep  her 
body  and  soul  together.  He  wanted  to  work  on 
Eva's  sympathies  for  a  sister  in  distress,  but  only 
the  belief  that  her  lover  had  no  connection  with  the 
matter  would  have  allayed  her  rising  resentment. 

"  Then  it  was  you  and  not  Roland  who  suggested 
her,"  she  said,  apparently  much  relieved.  "Mr. 
Linne-tte  told  me  their  names  were  coupled  in  a 
hateful  way  while  here  ;  and  though,  of  course,  I  did 
not  believe  there  was  warrant  for  it,  I  am  naturally 
surprised  to  hear  they  were  living  under  the  same 
roof — as  one  might  say,  in  one  family.  It  is  strange," 
she  added,  musingly,  "  that  he  never  spoke  of  her  in 
any  of  his  letters." 

It  flashed  across  Guy's  mind  at  this  moment  that 
it  was  Roland  who  suggested  the  engagement  of 
Miss  Arline,  and  a  spasm  of  doubt  took  possession 
of  his  brain. 

"  He  may  not  have  thought  it  of  enough  conse- 
quence," he  replied,  trying  to  crush  the  unpleasant 
feeling.  "  I  did  not  know  there  was  any  talk  about 
them  here,  though.  When  I  was  at  the  hotel  I  am 
sure  I  heard  nothing." 

Eva  was  suffering  under  the  lash  of  disappoint- 
ment that  such  an  interesting  bit  of  news  should 
have  come  to  her  in  this  roundabout  way.  Roland 
had  referred  to  his  housekeeper,  without  giv:Mg 


212  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

the  least  intimation  that  he  had  ever  known  her 
before. 

"  This  is  what  his  uncle  said  to  me,"  she  answered. 
"  She  was  asked  to  leave  Montvale  because  Roland's 
influence  over  her  was  not  good." 

Up  to  this  instant  Dalton  had  placed  not  the  least 
credence  in  this  allegation.  He  had  regarded  it,  in 
the  words  of  his  friend,  as  a  ridiculous  surmise  on 
Willard  Linnette's  part.  But  now  a  hundred  little 
things  occurred  to  him  that  pointed  in  an  opposite 
direction.  He  knew  that  Roland  was  no  saint.  He 
remembered  that  he  had  remained  at  home  most  of 
the  time  since  the  housekeeping  had  begun,  under 
one  pretext  or  another,  thus  being  thrown  into  the 
unrestricted  company  of  the  young  woman  in  ques- 
tion. As  for  Maud,  it  was  almost  impossible  to 
believe  anything  really  wrong  of  her,  but  who  could 
say  what  influences  one  so  used  to  charming  mem- 
bers  of  her  sex  might  have  brought  to  bear  ?  In  the 
collection  of  photographs  which  Roland  had  shown 
him  there  were  faces  as  sweet  as  hers  ;  and  yet — 

"We  have  happened  to  exchange  information  of 
mutual  interest,"  said  Eva,  with  a  smile,  for  she  saw 
the  frown  that  covered  his  brow,  and  wished  to  dis- 
sipate it  as  soon  as  possible.  "  I  do  not  believe,  how- 
ever, that  it  is  of  much  account.  While  it  is  true  Mr. 
Linnette  urged  Mr.  Hanson  to  send  her  away,  and 
furnished  the  money,  and  gave  the  reason  I  have 
repeated,  that  proves  nothing.  He  has  taken  a  dis- 
like to  his  nephew  that  renders  him  blind  to  reason. 
As  it  is  evident  Miss  Arline  does  not  share  his  fear- 
else  she  would  not  be  where  she  is — we  may  as  well 


OUT   TAKES   A   JOURNEY.  213 

call  it  a  baseless  charge  and  let  it  pass.  Probably 
she  was  not  unwilling  to  exchange  the  dull  life  she 
led  here  for  the  brighter  prospects  of  the  city,  and 
cared  little  how  the  exchange  was  made." 

Dalton  was  silent.  He  detested  double  dealing 
from  the  bottom  of  his  soul.  While  he  meant  to 
defend  Roland  to  this  girl,  he  doubted  him  more  and 
more.  Why  had  he  picked  out  Maud  to  be  their 
housekeeper?  And  was  there  anything  in  this 
journey  on  which  they  had  sent  him,  leaving  them  so 
many  hours  alone  ? 

"  I  can  quite  sympathize  with  her,"  pursued  the 
musical  voice  of  his  companion.  "  I  often  feel  that 
I  would  accept  almost  any  terms  to  get  away  from 
this  place.  Her  position  is  far  preferable  to  mine,  for 
she  is  free,  while  I  am  under  constant  surveillance. 
If  release  does  not  come  soon  I  shall  take  matters 
into  my  own  hands,  and  actually  run  away." 

Guy  could  hardly  answer  her.  If  his  suspicions 
were  in  the  least  justified  he  never  would  speak  to 
Roland  again.  He  rose,  with  the  remark  that  it  was 
time  he  set  out  on  his  walk  to  Ellsworth,  if  he  was 
to  catch  the  early  train. 

"  You  were  kind  to  come,"  said  Eva,  sweetly.  "  I 
shall  never  forget  it.  It  seems  almost  like  meeting 
Roland.  Tell  him  the  sight  of  you,  and  what  you 
have  said  to  me,  has  given  me  new  strength  and 
patience.  But  tell  him  also,"  and  the  pink  ran  riot 
over  her  fair  complexion,  "  that  he  must  not  make 
me  wait  too  long." 

These  ingenuous  words  impressed  Guy  with  her 
perfect  innocence  more  than  the  most  modest  expres- 


214  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

sions  could  have  done.  Her  nature  was  evidently 
wholly  unspoiled  and  simple.  Pressing  his  hand 
warmly  Eva  gave  him  into  Charlotte's  charge,  and 
he  escaped  without  detection  by  the  avenue  through 
which  he  had  entered  the  grounds. 

"He's  a  splendid  fellow!"  was  Eva's  comment, 
when  her  maid  returned.  "  And  did  you  notice 
how  handsome  he  is  ?  His  eyes  are  really  poetic, 
and  his  voice  is  as  gentle  as  a  woman's.  I  hope 
Roland  will  send  him  here  again." 

Then  she  added,  after  a  momentary  pause — 
"You  used  to  see  Maud  Arline,  who  lived  at  the 
hotel.     What   kind   of   a  girl  should    you   say  she 
was?" 


ONE    KISS   TOO    MANY.  215 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

ONE      KISS      TOO      MANY. 

It  was  only  twenty  hours  from  the  time  that  Guy 
Dalton  left  New  York  when  he  returned  to  it.  Only 
twenty  hours  that  Roland  and  Maud  had  been  to- 
gether. But  a  great  deal  can  be  accomplished  in 
twenty  hours. 

Roland  did  not  plan  anything,  either.  Guy  was 
quite  wrong  in  his  surmise  that  a  deep  plot  had  been 
laid  and  that  he  was  its  victim.  Nevertheless,  the 
result  was  not  pleasant  to  any  of  them,  and  all  on 
account  of  the  strangest  coincidence  imaginable. 

To  tell  the  truth,  Roland  intended  to  behave  in 
the  most  perfect  manner.  He  could  not  have  acted 
better  that  first  day  had  Maud  been  his  sister. 
Lunch  was  taken  at  a  restaurant,  and  when  he  re- 
turned he  suggested  a  very  simple  meal  for  the  even- 
ing, as  he  had  eaten  late  and  Guy  was  away.  Any- 
thing handy  would  answer,  he  said.  Then,  as  the 
girl  began  her  preparations,  he  sat  down  near  her, 
talking  in  the  good-natured,  familiar  way  to  which 
she  had  grown  accustomed. 

As  he  watched  her  a  sense  of  her  beauty  grew  upon 
him.  How  little  she  depended  upon  artificial  adorn- 
ment !  That  was  the  true  beauty — the  kind  that 
dress  does  not  accentuate  unduly.  He  made  her 
talk  about  herself,  and  execrated  with  her  the  heart- 


216  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

less  guardian  who  had  compelled  her  to  seek  her 
own  livelihood  the  moment  her  little  fortune  was  ex- 
hausted. The  story  was  a  very  pathetic  one,  and 
Roland  was  moved  to  compassion  and  indignation 
in  about  equal  measure. 

"And  then,"  he  said,  "when  you  found  a  shelter, 
my  uncle  had  to  interfere  and  send  you  away  on  the 
ground  that  I  might  fall  in  love  with  you.  How 
absurd  !" 

Maud  blushed  to  her  finger-tips. 

"  He's  a  queer  old  fellow  !"  continued  Roland. 
"I'd  like  to  know  what  he  does  want.  He  must 
intend  me  for  a  bachelor,  like  himself.  He's  just  as 
set  against  my  loving  his  ward,  you  know,  as  he  was 
against  you.  But  1  ought  to  do  him  partial  justice. 
I  was  getting  to  be  a  little  too  fond  of  you, 
Maud." 

The  girl,  whose  hands  were  in  the  flour,  making 
biscuit,  cast  a  reproachful  glance  at  the  speaker. 

"It  is  unkind  to  say  that,"  she  remarked,  in  a  low 
voice. 

He  rose  and  took  a  step  toward  her,  with  a  very 
sober  face. 

"  Unkind,  Maud !  I  unkind  to  you !  Do  you 
think  I  would  say  a  word  you  did  not  like,  if  I  knew 
it  ?  You  think  too  hard  of  me  for  some  of  the 
things  I  said  and  did  at  Hanson's.  The  fact  is,  I 
liked  you  immensely — and — I  do  yet — " 

He  saw  that  her  lip  was  beginning  to  quiver. 

"  Not  quite  in  the  way  of  a  lover,  you  know,"  he 
went  on,  desperately.  "  Only  as  a  friend — a  very 
good  friend.  Hang  it,  Maud  !  I  wish  I  could  make 


OWE  KISS  TOO  MANT.  217 

you  understand  me  !  I'm  afraid  I  never  shall. 
We'd  better  drop  it,  before  we  get  into  deep 
water.'* 

With  this  remark  he  left  her  abruptly,  and  walked 
into  the  next  room,  where  he  took  up  a  book  and 
busied  himself  with  it  until  she  called  him  to  dinner. 
He  was  not  hungry  in  the  least,  and  only  touched 
the  daintiest  bits,  washing  them  down  with  a  half 
bottle  of  ordinary  claret.  The  girl's  appetite  was 
not  much  better,  and  soon  he  retreated  to  the 
parlor  again  and  left  her  to  "do  "  the  dishes.  When 
he  fancied  she  must  be  through  with  her  labors  he 
went  out  into  the  dining-room,  and  found  her  sitting 
there,  sewing.  Her  head  was  bent  low  over  her 
work  and  tears  had  fallen  upon  it. 

"  Bring  that  into  the  parlor,  won't  y<  u  ?"  he  asked, 
not  noticing  particularly  what  she  was  doing.  "I'm 
awfully  lonesome.  If  you  don't  come  I  shall  have 
to  go  and  hunt  up  a  theatre,  to  kill  the  evening." 

She  came  obediently,  feeling  that  he  was  her 
employer,  and  had  a  right  to  command  her.  A 
ready  handkerchief  removed  the  traces  of  weeping 
from  her  eyes.  Linnette  sat  silent  for  some  minutes 
and  then  exclaimed— 

"Do  you  hate  me  very,  very  much  ?" 

She  looked  up  in  intense  surprise. 

"  Why  should  I  hate  you  ?" 

"Oh,  there  are  reasons  enough.  If  I  had  never 
insisted  on  your  waiting  on  me  at  Hanson's  you 
would  be  there  yet." 

"Do  you  think  I  was  so  entirely  happy  there?" 
she  asked,  smiling  in  spite  of  herself. 


218  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 

"  No,  but  here  you  are  utterly  wretched.  I  am  an 
unreasonable  fellow,  I  know  that  very  well.  No- 
body likes  me,  and  nobody  ought  to.  I  wish  I  was 
like  Guy.  I  don't  wonder  you're  in  love  with  him. 
When  you're  his  wife  you'll  be  a  happy  woman 
indeed." 

She  started  at  the  statement,  and  then  asked  why 
he  thought  she  would  ever  be  Dalton's  wife. 

"  That's  a  queer  question,"  he  replied.  "  Isn't  it 
settled  ?" 

She  laid  down  the  sewing  in  her  lap  and  fixed  her 
fearless  eyes  upon  him. 

"  If  it  is,  it  has  been  without  consulting  me." 

"  But  you  can  have  no  doubt — you  certainly  are 
lovers.  Pshaw  !  You're  only  trying  me,  Maud. 
You  wouldn't  say  he  never  mentioned  marriage  to 
you  ?" 

She  hesitated,  wondering  how  far  she  was  justified 
in  answering  such  inquiries. 

"  No,  he  never  did,"  she  replied  at  last. 

"  That's  strange,"  exclaimed  Roland,  showing  his 
astonishment  in  his  voice  and  look.  "  Why,  you've 
been  together  about  all  his  spare  time  for  weeks 
and  weeks.  What  could  he  find  to  talk  about,  if  not 
love  ?" 

The  color  began  to  mount  to  her  temples. 

"  I  did  not  say  he  had  never  spoken  of  love"  she 
said. 

What  did  she  mean  ?  He  looked  at  the  girl 
searchingly,  but  could  make  nothing  of  her  ex- 
pression. 

"  The  man  who  speaks  continually  to  a  woman  of 


ONI   KISS   TOO   MAKY.  219 

love,  and  never  of  marriage,  is  not  one  to  be  encour- 
aged," he  said,  earnestly.  "  Yes,  I  would  say  the 
same  if  he  were  my  brother." 

The  helplessness  of  the  girl  smote  the  libertine 
like  a  blow.  In  the  heat  of  passion  he  had  made 
light  of  such  situations  in  his  day,  but  now  he  felt 
as  if  he  were  the  witness  of  the  robbery  of  a  house, 
the  kidnapping  of  a  child.  He  had  no  volition 
whatever,  he  was  forced  to  the  attitude  he  took  by 
the  overpowering  pressure  from  within. 

"  Maud,"  he  cried,  drawing  his  chair  nearer  to 
her,  "  tell  me,  is  it  too  late  ?" 

Quite  startled  at  his  manner,  she  could  not 
answer  him,  and  he  took  her  silence  for  a  confession. 

"  I  am  so  sorry  !"  he  said,  taking  both  her  hands 
in  his.  "  But  you  shall  be  his  wife — I  will  make  him 
marry  you  !  Yes,  as  soon  as  he  returns  !" 

She  did  not  know  the  dark  suspicion  that  was  haunt- 
ing him.  But  she  could  not  leave  his  mind  in  the 
condition  she  found  it.  She  begged  him  to  promise 
that  he  would  not  speak  to  Guy  about  her. 

"And  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  are  content  ?"  he 
exclaimed.  "  You  do  not  wisJi  to  marry  him,  is  that 
it  ?" 

"  I  do  twt,"  she  replied,  positively.  "  I  do  not  wish 
to  marry — anyone." 

The  riddle  was  too  deep.  He  looked  at  her  for  a 
long  time  in  silence.  She  took  up  her  sewing  again, 
to  engross  her  mind  a  little  with  it,  and  he  watched 
her  as  she  plied  the  needle.  How  little  one  could 
tell  about  a  woman  by  seeing  her  face  ! 

He  remembered  a  time,  years  ago,  when  he  had 


220  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

met  at  the  entrance  of  the  Jardin  de  Paris  a  beauti- 
ful girl,  dressed  in  white,  with  the  purest  face  he  had 
ever  seen.  And  he  had  remarked  to  a  friend  that 
someone  should  tell  that  innocent  creature  of  the 
infamous  scenes  which  would  soon  dye  her  marble 
cheeks  with  roses.  And  his  friend  had  laughed  and 
told  him  that  she  was  Mile.  D'Alencelle,  of  the 
Cirque.  Unable  to  believe  it,  he  had  returned  to 
the  place  where  the  shameless  dancers  were  giving 
their  exhibitions,  and  watched  mademoiselle  view 
the  worst  of  it  unmoved. 

The  more  he  thought  of  Maud  the  more  unbearable 
it  became,  and  he  excused  himself,  saying  he  had  an 
engagement  and  must  go  out  for  an  hour  or  two. 

The  cool  air  of  the  night  revived  him.  He  walked 
far  up  town  and  then  slowly  back  again.  As  he 
neared  his  apartments  he  found  it  harder  and  harder 
to  enter  the  door,  and  he  went  off  for  another  long 
walk,  which  lasted  until  he  heard  a  clock  striking 
twelve.  Then  he  went  deliberately  to  the  Morton 
House,  engaged  a  room  and  threw  himself,  fully 
dressed,  upon  the  bed. 

He  thought  of  a  hundred  things  in  those  few  hours. 
He  was  very  angry  at  Dalton.  Such  affairs  were 
the  exclusive  privilege  of  wealth.  It  was  outrageous 
for  a  pauper  to  imitate  his  betters  in  this  fashion. 
Roland  stirred  himself  up  to  a  genuine  rage.  He 
would  have  it  out  with  Guy.  He  would  tell  him 
his  opinion  of  his  conduct  ! 

But,  with  daylight,  after  some  sleep  that  even  his 
ill-temper  could  not  drive  away,  there  came  a 
gentler  feeling.  Human  nature  was  the  same  in  rich 


01TE   KISS   TOO    MANY.  221 

and  poor,  high  and  low.  He  was  himself  too  impe- 
cunious now  to  criticise  his  equals.  Maud  was 
handsome.  If  she  had  been  thrown  too  completely 
into  Guy's  company,  who  was  more  to  blame  than 
the  man  who  criticised  him  ?  Roland  rose,  and 
after  making  his  toilet,  walked  briskly  to  his  home, 
determined  to  say  no  more  about  it. 

The  young  housekeeper  had  also  slept  badly. 
She  knew  that  something — she  did  not  understand 
what — troubled  Roland  exceedingly,  and  realized 
that  the  entire  night  had  passed  without  his  return. 
Quite  early  she  arose  and  went  about  her  house- 
hold affairs,  making  the  coffee  and  taking  in  the 
French  rolls  that  the  baker's  boy  left  at  her  door. 
When  Roland  came  in  he  greeted  her  in  the  old  way, 
which  reassured  her,  and  they  sat  down  to  take  their 
coffee  together. 

"  I  met  a  friend  and  passed  the  night  with  him," 
he  explained,  briefly. 

With  the  mercurial  temperament  which  mastered 
him  at  all  times,  he  soon  went  to  the  opposite 
extreme.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but  make  the 
best  of  it.  Guy  was  a  sly  dog !  Roland  laughed 
and  talked  with  Maud,  coming  into  the  kitchen 
every  little  while  and  making  himself  entertaining. 
When  her  work  was  done  he  sat  with  her  in  the 
sitting-room  and  grew  more  good-natured  than  ever. 
Why  should  he  not  be  free  with  her,  if  he  liked  ? 
A  kiss  from  those  red  lips  would  not  be  wholly 
unpleasant,  and  it  would  be  no  robbery  if  he  could 
secure  one. 

"  I  wonder  what  Guy  has   succeeded   in  finding 


222  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

out,"  he  said,  to  keep  up  the  conversation.  "That 
Tom  Hobbs  is  a  shrewd  old  fellow.  And  Eva  ;  I 
hope  he  got  in  and  out  of  the  mansion  safely.  He 
will  be  here,  probably,  this  afternoon.  I  can't  help 
thinking,  Maud,  of  what  you  told  me  yesterday.  I 
surely  thought  he  was  engaged  to  you.  He  ought 
to  be,  that's  all  I've  got  to  say.  If  I  were  in  his 
place  I'd  make  you  so  secure  nobody  else  should 
ever  put  in  a  claim.  And  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the 
interference  of  my  uncle,  I'm  not  certain  I  shouldn't 
have  tried  to  win  you  myself." 

Maud  rose  to  get  something  from  the  mantel.  As 
she  passed  the  young  man  he  caught  her  in  his  arms 
and  drew  her  into  his  lap.  The  movement  was  so 
unexpected  that  she  had  no  chance  to  avoid  the 
embrace.  His  lips  were  on  hers  in  a  warm  kiss,  and 
she  was  as  nearless  helpless  for  the  moment  as  one 
could  well  be.  The  time  was  badly  chosen,  how- 
ever, and  as  Roland  released  her  they  were  both 
startled  to  see  Guy  Dalton  standing  by  the  door. 

Maud  turned  scarlet,  but  Roland  summoned  a 
loud  laugh  and  cried  out  that  they  were  caught  that 
time. 

"  How  did  you  find  things  at  Montvale  ?"  he 
added,  carelessly.  "  I  am  dying  to  hear  your  story." 

He  had  no  idea  that  Guy  would  make  a  serious 
matter  of  what  he  had  unluckily  chanced  to  witness. 
The  obligation  that  the  young  fellow  was  under  to 
him  would,  he  reasoned,  outweigh  any  little  feeling 
he  might  have.  He  would  tell  him  later  that  he 
had  acted  on  the  spur  of  the  moment  and  that  Maud 
was  taken  wholly  by  surprise.  But  he  soon  saw  thar 


ONE    KISS   TOO   MANY.  283 

^/alton  did  not  intend  to  take  the  event  in  a  light 

manner.  He  stood  there  as  if  stunned,  fora  moment, 
and  then,  without  speaking,  passed  into  his  bedroom. 

Miss  Arline  went  to  a  window  that  gave  on  the 
small  courtyard,  and  pressed  her  face  against  the 
pane.  She  was  trembling.  Linnette  called  out 
"Guy  !"  twice,  and  receiving  no  answer,  added  in  a 
low  tone,  "  Oh,  then,  go  to  the  devil,  if  you  want  to 
make  such  a  fuss  about  it  !" 

Recovering  herself,  the  girl  withdrew  to  the 
kitchen,  and  Roland  walked  into  the  parlor  and 
began  reading  the  morning  newspaper,  though  very 
511  at  ease. 

An  uncomfortable  quarter-hour  passed,  and  then 
Dalton  emerged  from  his  room,  dragging  a  trunk, 
which  he  put  into  the  public  hall.  Returning,  he 
brought  out  a  satchel,  and  several  other  things,  and 
started  to  leave  the  flat. 

"  Don't  be  a  fool  !"  cried  Roland,  coming  to  the 
doorway.  "If  you'll  give  me  half  a  chance,  I  can 
explain  everything  to  your  satisfaction." 

Dalton  straightened  himself  to  his  full  height.  A 
dangerous  look  came  into  his  eyes,  usually  so  soft 
and  pleasant.  Roland  stepped  aside  and  the  door 
latched. 

"  y<?2/7/have  to  speak  to  him,"  he  said  to  Maudr 
going  to  the  kitchen.  "  He'll  not  listen  to  me.  He's 
gone  for  a  cab,  I  suppose,  but  you  can  stop  him." 

A  look  of  intense  suffering  was  on  the  girl's  face,, 
as  she  lifted  her  eyes  to  his. 

"I  could  not,"  she  said,  simply. 

"  Nonsense  !" 


224  LOTE   AT   SEVENTY. 

4*  Not  after  what  he  saw." 

Roland  was  full  of  contrition. 

"  Lay  all  the  blame  on  me.  Tell  him  the  truth 
I'll  endorse  anything  you  say.  He  mustn't  leave  )'ou 
like  this.  I  don't  care  for  myself,  but  he  has  no 
right  to  condemn  you  on  such  slight  evidence." 

The  girl  shook  her  head  slowly  and  sadly.  Find- 
ing that  he  could  do  nothing  with  her,  Linnette 
went  out  into  the  hallway,  to  make  one  more  trial 
on  his  own  account.  The  baggage  was  not  where 
he  supposed  it  would  be.  On  the  lower  floor  he 
encountered  the  janitor,  who  said  he  had  brought  it 
down  at  Mr.  Dalton's  request,  and  had  assisted  in 
putting  it  on  a  carriage  that  was  passing. 

Was  ever  anything  accomplished  so  quickly? 
Roland  went  out  into  the  street,  but  no  carriage 
was  visible  in  any  direction. 

"Well,  Maud,  he's  gone,"  said  he  to  Miss  Arline, 
when  he  reached  his  apartment  again.  "Gone  like 
the  wind,  nobody  knows  where." 

The  girl  paused  in  her  work,  looking  on  the 
floor. 

"Then  /must  go,  too,"  she  said,  quietly. 

"  You  ?  Certainly  not  !  He'll  get  over  his  fit  in  a 
day  or  so,  and  be  back  again." 

Maud  put  her  fingers  in  the  neck  of  her  dress  as  if 
it  choked  her. 

"  It  will  be  better  that  I  go.  He  will  never  be 
friends  with  you  while  I  stay  here." 

"  Friends  with  me!"  exclaimed  the  other,  excitedly. 
"That's  of  mighty  small  consequence.  I  must  re- 
store him  to  you  !" 


**Hfi   WILL  DO   IT  FOB  MB."  225 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

"HE     WILL     DO     IT     FOR     M  E.** 

The  silent  anger  that  rises  to  white  heat  is 
more  dangerous  than  the  kind  that  vents  itself  in 
outward  show.  Guy  Dalton  knew  what  it  was  to 
feel  murder  in  his  heart  as  he  stood  by  the  door  of 
his  apartment  and  saw  that  couple  so  close  together. 

Knowing  he  was  not  expected  on  the  earliest  train, 
he  had  gone  softly  up  the  stairs.  He  was  hardly 
surprised  at  the  sight  that  met  his  gaze,  but  he  knew 
no  course  except  to  pack  up  and  leave  them. 

To  have  uttered  a  word  in  reply  to  Roland's  offer  to 
"  explain  "  would  have  been  to  release  the  torrent  of 
rage  that  filled  his  being.  Guy  was  afraid  of  him- 
self at  that  moment.  Only  a  thin  veil  separated  his 
self-control  from  the  revenge  to  which  a  loud  voice 
called  him. 

He  packed  his  things  leisurely,  like  a  man  in  a 
dream  ;  took  his  baggage  into  the  public  hall ;  hap- 
pened to  meet  the  janitor  on  the  landing,  and 
secured  his  assistance  in  getting  it  downstairs  ;  saw 
a  cab  passing  ;  and,  before  Linnette  could  reach  him, 
had  gone  out  of  sight,  directing  his  driver  to  turn 
several  corners  for  the  purpose  of  throwing  possible 
spies  off  his  track. 

He  was  nearly  penniless,  but  at  the  time  he  did 
not  think  of  that.  He  only  wanted  to  get  beyond 


226  LOVE    AT   SEVElfTY. 

the  reach  of  those  who  had  deceived  him.  He 
directed  the  cabman  to  go  as  far  as  Twenty-eighth 
Street  and  Seventh  Avenue,  and  when  that  point  was 
reached  he  stopped  and  bought  a  newspaper,  scanning 
the  columns  in  which  rooms  were  advertised.  A 
little  distance  from  the  corner  he  found  a  chamber, 
which  he  engaged,  and  as  he  appeared  honest  and 
respectable,  the  landlady  did  not  require  him  to  pay 
anything  in  advance. 

He  had  eaten  no  breakfast,  but  he  did  not  care  for 
any.  He  took  a  chair  and  sat  for  hours,  in  a  dazed 
sort  of  way,  looking  at  the  adjacent  roofs.  He  was 
in  a  state  that  closely  resembled  coma.  At  last 
night  came  on.  Long  after  dark  he  went  to  bed  by 
the  light  of  the  stars.  In  the  morning  he  awoke, 
cold  and  hungry. 

Examining  his  purse  he  found  less  than  a  dollar  in 
it.  He  sought  a  cheap  restaurant  in  the  vicinity 
and  spent  twenty  cents  for  a  breakfast.  Having 
nothing  else  to  do  he  returned  to  his  room  and 
relapsed  into  the  listless  attitude  of  the  previous  day. 
At  night  he  went  out  again  to  a  frugal  supper. 
The  next  day  he  pursued  the  same  course. 

On  the  second  morning  he  awoke  with  his 
thoughts  on  Eva  Warren.  In  his  sleep  he  had  seen 
her  sweet  face,  and  she  had  asked  him  to  come  to 
her.  Yes,  it  was  his  duty  to  make  the  journey. 
Roland  had  committed  an  irreparable  wrong  to  that 
girl,  and  she  ought  to  know  it.  Procuring  writing 
materials  at  the  desk  of  a  restaurant  where  he  went 
for  a  cup  of  coffee,  he  indited  a  note  stating  that  he 
would  be  at  Montvale  either  that  night  or  the  one 


"HB  WILL  DO  IT  FOU  MK.M  227 

following,  and  asking  that  Charlotte  keep  watch  for 
him  at  the  door  in  the  wall.  This  letter  he  mailed, 
without  stopping  to  think  that  it  required  money  to 
purchase  a  railroad  ticket,  and  that  the  price  of  the 
stamp  was  the  last  of  his  resources. 

At  noon,  on  starting  for  dinner,  he  recollected  that 
he  was  penniless.  Literally  his  last  cent  was  gone. 
Discouraged,  he  tried  to  think  what  he  could  pawn 
best.  There  was  his  trunk  and  his  satchel,  and  the 
thin  overcoat  that  he  wore  on  chilly  evenings.  He 
hated  to  part  with  any  of  them,  and  he  passed  the 
entire  day  without  food.  In  the  morning  he  lay 
quite  late.  No  breakfast  awaited  him,  and  he  was 
weak  and  tired.  At  eleven  he  dressed  and  descended 
to  the  street  from  sheer  ennui. 

Growing  hungrier  every  minute  he  walked  about, 
looking  at  the  things  in  the  shop  windows.  Bills  of 
fare  in  front  of  eating-houses  had  a  fascination  for 
him.  Dishes  that  he  would  have  scorned  ordinarily 
took  on  a  positive  deliciousness  as  he  read  over  their 
names.  "  Baked  beans  !"  How  nice  they  would 
taste  !  "  Stewed  tripe  !"  A  banquet  fit  for  the  gods 
could  be  made  of  that  material.  He  eyed  the  joints 
of  beef  and  mutton,  and  the  fat  turkeys  displayed 
in  the  provision  stores,  until  his  hunger  grew  so 
acute  that  he  had  to  move  on.  A  whiff  of  air  from 
a  kitchen  freighted  with  the  odors  of  cooking  made 
him  dizzy. 

At  two  o'clock  he  found  himself  in  front  of  his 
old  place  of  employment,  the  office  of  the  Montvale 
Optical  Company.  He  loitered  as  he  passed,  to  see 
if  any  of  his  former  acquaintances  were  in  sight. 


228  LOVE   AT    SEVENTY. 

He  did  not  mean  to  have  them  detect  him,  but  the 
cashier  looked  up  and  beckoned  to  him  with  a 
smile.  Dal  ton  shook  his  head,  and  was  moving  on, 
when  the  man  came  to  the  door  and  called  to  him. 

"  I  wish  you  would  come  in  a  minute,"  he  said. 
"  There  is  a  balance  due  you,  and  I  want  to  get  it  off 
the  books." 

The  words  rang  in  the  hungry  man's  ear  like  the 
whirling  of  a  buzz-saw. 

"Balance — due  me  ?"  he  repeated,  vaguely. 

"  Yes,  twelve  dollars,  for  the  last  week  you  were 
here.  It  would  be  a  convenience  if  you  would  take 
it  now." 

Though  Guy  wanted  that  money  as  bad  as  he  had 
ever  wanted  anything,  he  held  back.  He  hated  to 
touch  a  dollar  belonging  to  Willard  Linnette.  But, 
after  all,  he  had  earned  it  honestly.  And  he  was 
starving. 

"  How  can  there  be  a  whole  week's  pay  ?"  he 
asked.  "  I  left  on  a  Friday." 

"  You  were  discharged  rather  suddenly,  you  remem- 
ber," smiled  the  cashier,  "  and  in  such  cases  it  is 
customary.  I  don't  know  but  you  could  claim 
another  week,  as  you  were  entitled  to  notice  ;  but 
twelve  dollars  is  all  I  can  give  you  in  the  absence  of 
instructions." 

Satisfied  with  the  explanation,  Guy  entered  the 
office  and  signed  a  receipt.  The  other  clerks  spoke 
to  him,  in  a  casual  way,  saying  that  he  was  not  look- 
ing as  well  as  when  he  left.  The  first  thing  he  did 
after  getting  the  money  was  to  seek  a  restaurant  and 
eat  a  hearty  meal.  Then  he  went  to  his  room  and 


"HE   WILL   DO   IT   FOR   ME."  229 

paid  his  landlady  a  week's  rent.  And  after  that  he 
took  a  satchel  with  some  necessary  clothing  and 
went  to  the  depot,  where  he  bought  a  ticket,  and 
took  a  seat  in  the  train. 

Alighting  as  before,  at  Ellsworth,  he  walked  briskly 
toward  Montvale.  As  he  approached  the  village  it 
was  yet  too  early  to  think  of  gaining  admittance  to 
the  Linnette  mansion,  and  the  young  man  turned 
into  a  by-road  and  paced  up  and  down  under  the 
overhanging  branches  of  the  tall  trees  till  the  lights 
in  the  neighboring  houses  began  to  be  extinguished. 
Then  he  emerged  from  his  concealment  sufficiently 
to  gain  a  good  view  of  the  residence  he  sought,  and 
found  that  it  appeared  to  be  shrouded  in  total  dark- 
ness. He  crept  quietly  to  the  rear  of  the  grounds 
and  knocked  gently  on  the  door  in  the  high  brick 
wall.  Without  an  instant's  delay  it  was  opened 
to  him,  and  Charlotte's  well-known  features  were 
discernible  in  the  dusky  light. 

No  interference  was  found  between  this  point  and 
the  rooms  that  Miss  Warren  occupied. 

"  I  received  your  letter  this  noon,"  said  Eva, 
greeting  him  in  her  sweetest  manner.  "  Now,  let 
me  hear  what  the  latest  trouble  is.  As  Mr.  Willard 
Linnette  has  gone  to  the  city,  I  presume  it  is  some- 
thing in  relation  to  his  visit  there." 

The  excitement  which  he  had  undergone  during 
the  previous  few  days  had  worn  very  much  on  Guy. 
He  shook  his  head  slowly,  to  imply  that  her  guess 
was  incorrect.  Then  she  noticed  that  he  was  very 
pale,  and  commented  upon  that  fact. 

"  You  are  ill,  I  fear,"  she  said.     "  Has  something 


230  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

so  terrible  occurred,  then  ?  Speak  at  once,  and  let 
me  know  the  worst." 

He  struggled  for  a  few  minutes  with  the  things 
that  rushed  into  his  mind.  Now  that  he  was  with 
her,  the  importance  of  every  move  began  to  force 
itself  upon  his  mind.  She  had  shown  a  blind  faith 
in  her  lover,  on  the  previous  occasion,  when  alluding 
to  his  uncle's  accusations  against  him.  How  could 
he  know  that  she  would  give  a  more  willing  ear  to 
the  statements  he  had  come  prepared  to  make  ? 

"  I  have  had  troubles — serious  ones — of  my  own," 
he  replied,  gravely. 

He  had  counted  well  on  the  feminine  trait  of 
curiosity,  for  she  warmly  urged  him  to  confide  in 
her,  saying  she  felt  the  strongest  wish  to  know  every- 
thing that  affected  his  welfare.  She  said  this  so 
kindly,  and  with  such  a  sympathy  in  her  eyes,  that 
his  voice  choked  as  he  began  his  story. 

"When  I  was  last  here  I  told  you  that  we  were 
living  in  an  apartment  together,  and  that  a  young 
lady  was  acting  as  our  housekeeper.  You  must  have 
gathered  from  what  I  said  that  she  and  I  were  on 
very  friendly  terms.  I  was  absent  from  New  York 
less  than  one  complete  day.  When  I  returned — " 

His  feelings  overcame  him  at  this  juncture,  and 
he  had  to  pause  to  recover  himself. 

"  She  was  gone  ?"  suggested  Eva,  leaning  toward 
him,  and  speaking  tremulously. 

"  No.  There  was  a  man,  who  professed  the 
greatest  regard  for  me,  and  who  knew  my  feelings 
toward — toward  Miss  Arline.  I  entered  our  apart- 
ment unexpectedly  to  them,  and  the  first  sight  that 


KHB   WILL  DO  IT  FOR   MB."  231 

met  my  eyes  was  my  supposed  friend  with  that 
young  woman  in  his  arms,  his  lips  pressed  to  hers." 

Miss  Warren  had  begun  to  tremble  as  if  with  a 
deadly  chill.  The  thought  of  doubting  him  never 
entered  her  head.  His  tale  was  too  evidently  true. 

"And  the  name  of  this  man?"  she  asked,  her 
teeth  chattering. 

"Was  Roland  Linnette." 

She  uttered  a  low  cry  and  covered  her  eyes. 

"  What  did  he  say  ?"  she  inquired,  without  look- 
ing up. 

"  He  said  he  would  explain  everything,  if  I  would 
listen  to  him,"  responded  Dalton.  "  But  I  could  not 
bear  to  hold  a  conversation  then.  I  was  too  much 
afraid  I  might  do  him  a  mischief.  I  packed  my 
belongings  at  once  and  had  them  taken  away — and 
I  have  seen  neither  of  them  since." 

The  revolution  that  acts  the  quickest  of  all  is  that 
which  takes  place  in  the  mind  of  a  woman  who  dis- 
covers the  infidelity  of  the  man  she  has  learned  to 
love.  Sometimes  it  takes  the  form  of  blind  hate, 
and  she  searches  for  a  physical  weapon  with  which 
to  strike  the  object  of  her  wrath.  Sometimes  the 
effect  is  like  the  erasure  of  the  page  in  their  lives  on 
which  his  image  is  imprinted.  This  was  the  effect 
in  Eva's  case. 

If  Roland  had  held  another  girl  in  his  arms  and 
touched  her  lips  with  his,  he  was  no  more  to  her,  and 
never  could  be.  It  was  painful  to  learn  of  it,  her 
love  and  pride  were  equally  injured  ;  but  the  chief 
impression  on  her  mind  was  one  of  a  great  vacancy. 
For  months  she  had  thought  of  little  else  than  this 


232  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

man.  All  her  plans  were  made  with  him  as  the 
central  figure.  Now  the  room  in  which  she  lived 
was  suddenly  stripped  of  its  garnishings,  and  noth- 
ing but  the  bare  walls  confronted  her. 

"  I  am  so  sorry  for  you,"  she  managed  to  say. 
"  You  must  have  been  very  fond  of  her,  and  her 
action  is  incomprehensible." 

"  It  is  not  that,"  he  replied.  "  I  do  not  think, 
now  that  I  look  back  on  it,  that  I  really  cared  for 
her.  What  crushed  me  was  to  think  that  he — who 
professed  so  much  love  for  me — could  betray  me  as 
soon  as  my  back  was  turned.  And  I  cannot  tell 
how  long  his  plan  was  maturing.  It  was  he  who 
suggested  her  as  our  housekeeper.  Yes,  you  may  as 
well  know.  It  was  he  who  asked  me  to  come  here 
on  that  errand.  It  makes  me  feel  as  if  all  the  world 
was  false,  as  if  there  was  no  one  whom  I  could 
trust." 

She  assented  with  a  thoughtful  nod,  and  for  some 
time  both  were  silent.  Then  she  asked  what  had 
brought  him  on  to  Montvale. 

"I  came  to  tell  you,"  he  answered.  "I  thought 
you  ought  to  know.  And  I  had  nothing  else  to  do, 
left  as  I  am  without  work,  without  prospects,  with- 
out a  home,  and  without  a  friend." 

The  extreme  sadness  with  which  he  uttered  these 
words  touched  the  girl  deeply. 

"  Not  without  a  friend,  surely,"  she  said,  putting 
her  hand  in  his,  with  a  delightfully  graceful  motion, 
*'  though  I  fear  there  is  little  that  I  can  do  to  aid 
you.  Tell  me  your  entire  story,  if  you  will  be  so 
kind,  and  see  if  there  is  anything  I  can  suggest." 


"  HE    WILL   DO   IT   FOR   ME."  233 

Charmed  by  her  manner,  Guy  was  led  to  talk 
about  himself  in  a  way  he  had  never  done  to  any 
other  person.  She  drew  out  of  him  the  tale  of  his 
life,  from  the  earliest  period  he  could  remember  up 
to  the  present  day.  When  he  related  his  meeting 
with  Roland  Linnette,  and  the  care  taken  of  him  in 
his  illness,  the  girl  paid  the  tribute  of  a  tear  to  the 
pathos  of  the  narrative. 

"  I  am  glad  to  know  Roland  is  not  all  bad,"  she 
said.  "  I  shall  always  think  of  him  hereafter  as  one 
who  is  dead,  and  I  like  to  remember  all  the  good 
things  I  can  of  him.  What  do  you  suppose  he  will 
do  ?  His  uncle  is  not  likely  to  relent,  and  he  does 
not  seem  able  to  find  work." 

Dalton  reddened. 

"That,  at  least,  is  no  reflection  on  him,"  he  re- 
sponded. "  I  have  tried  as  hard  as  he,  if  not  harder, 
and  there  seems  to  be  nothing.  Is  .it  not  strange 
that  in  a  world  so  vast  there  should  be  no  one  in 
want  of  a  young  man  of  fair  talents,  willing  to  labor 
faithfully?" 

Eva  agreed  with  him  perfectly.  Then  she  said, 
brightly,  that  she  had  an  idea  she  could  arrange  the 
matter  now.  Mr.  Willard  Linnette  had  been  very 
angry  because  she  wished  to  become  the  wife  of  his 
nephew,  and  had  treated  her  coldly  of  late.  When 
she  told  him,  as  she  intended  to  do  forthwith,  that 
her  engagement  was  at  an  end,  he  would  resume 
his  fatherly  attitude  toward  her,  and  she  could  get 
anything  from  him  she  chose  to  ask.  The  position 
in  the  New  York  office  of  the  Optical  Company 


234:  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

would  then  be  given  back  to  Roland  without  ques- 
tion, or  perhaps  a  much  better  one. 

He  did  not  answer,  half  pleased  at  the  prospect 
she  held  out  to  him,  and  half  inclined  to  reject  it 
outright,  because  it  seemed  like  charity,  and  from  a 
woman,  too. 

"  He  will  do  it  for  me,"  she  repeated,  confidently. 
"  When  I  go  to  him  and  call  him  '  Uncle  '  again  there 
is  nothing  he  can  refuse.  You  cannot  imagine  how 
fond  he  used  to  be  of  me,  and  only  this  matter  of 
Roland  has  ever  made  any  trouble  between  us. 
Stay  in  Montvale  a  few  days,  till  he  returns,  and  I 
can  almost  guarantee  to  arrange  it." 

Stay  in  Montvale  !  More  easily  said  than  done,  he 
thought.  He  had  not  enough  money  to  pay  his 
board  at  the  hotel,  aside  from  his  disinclination  to 
go  there  and  be  subjected  to  cross-questionings.  As 
he  was  thinking  this  over,  and  wondering  whether  he 
might  not  as  well  return  to  New  York  and  wait  there 
for  Eva's  communication,  in  case  she  accomplished 
anything,  the  girl  clapped  her  hands  together  in 
ecstacy,  like  the  child  she  was. 

"I  have  thought  of  the  most  romantic  thing  !"  she 
exclaimed.  "You  can  stay  here,  in  this  house,  just 
as  well  as  not  !" 

"  In  this  house  !"  he  repeated,  surprised  out  of 
himself. 

"Exactly.  This  wing  is  never  visited  except  by 
Charlotte  and  me.  You  can  take  one  of  the  cham- 
bers and  remain  as  long  as  necessary.  I  will  see  that 
plenty  of  food  is  smuggled  to  you.  In  that  way  you 
will  be  handy  at  all  times  for  consultation,  and  when- 


"HE  WILL  DO  IT  FOE  ME."  235 

ever  you  wish  to  leave,  you  have  only  to  wait  for 
darkness.  I  will  even  have  my  meals  sent  up,  so 
that  we  can  dine  together  !  You  have  no  idea  how 
thoroughly  I  am  my  own  mistress — that  is,  in  every- 
thing except  the  thing  I  most  crave,  the  right  to 
leave  the  grounds  and  see  the  world.  By-and-by, 
perhaps  you  can  help  me  to  that,  too." 

It  was  certainly  an  agreeable  inducement  that  she 
held  out  to  him.  And  after  a  reasonable  time,  dur- 
ing which  he  raised  insignificant  objections,  Dalton 
agreed  to  remain  for  the  night,  at  least,  and  to  leave 
the  matter  of  a  longer  stay  to  be  discussed  the  next 
morning. 


236  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

"POVERTY  is  A  WEARY  THING!** 

The  poet  who  sang,  "  Oh,  poverty  is  a  weary 
thin-g  !"  made  no  mistake.  Maud  Arline  had  felt  its 
sting  many  times  since  the  day  she  was  left,  an 
orphan,  to  the  tender  mercies  of  her  guardian.  She 
had  felt  it  when  turned  out  the  day  her  small  fortune 
was  exhausted,  and  when  she  had  to  take  a  menial's 
position  in  the  hotel  at  Montvale.  Then  had  come 
Roland,  with  his  strange  manners,  so  entirely  differ- 
ent from  anything  she  had  ever  experienced.  And 
when  she  had  been  in  his  company  less  than  a  month, 
the  inevitable  happened.  She  fell  violently  in  love 
with  the  young  gentleman. 

At  first  she  would  not  admit  this,  even  to  herself, 
and,  above  all  things,  she  did  not  wish  him  to  guess 
it.  It  was  preposterous  !  He  was  heir  to  a  fortune 
estimated  at  hundreds  of  thousands.  She  had  liter- 
ally nothing  but  the  plain  garments  she  wore.  He 
had  the  legions  of  friends  that  wealth  always  carries 
in  its  train.  She  had  no  one  on  whom  she  could 
make  the  slightest  claim.  Since  her  reduction  to  a 
place  in  the  "servant  "  class,  she  had  become  separ- 
ated entirely  from  all  she  had  formerly  known. 
Only  in  story  books  would  such  a  man  stoop  to  lift 
such  a  girl  to  his  side  as  an  equal.  And  yet — she 
loved  him. 


"  POVERTY    IS   A   WEARY   THING  !"  237 

She  had  supposed,  from  what  Miss  Giddings  told 
her,  that  he  would  be  a  very  disagreeable  person  to 
serve.  She  had  made  up  h~:  mind  to  endure  a  great 
deal  of  fault-finding.  Afte'her  meeting  with  him  in 
the  road  these  fears  were  succeeded  by  still  stronger 
ones.  She  dreaded  the  renewal  of  such  attentions 
as  he  had  begun.  Had  he  made  the  slightest  move 
at  that  time  toward  excessive  familiarity,  it  would 
have  put  her  on  her  guard.  It  was  because  of  his 
unfailing  courtesy  that  the  revulsion  took  place  in 
her  feelings. 

When  Mr.  Hanson  came  to  her  with  his  story,  tell- 
ing her  what  the  powerful  uncle  of  his  guest 
demanded,  she  was  momentarily  stunned.  The  only 
thing  she  had  of  value,  her  reputation,  was  in  danger 
of  being  taken  from  her,  the  landlord  said,  by  the 
village  gossips.  More  than  this,  Roland  was  repre- 
sented as  a  most  dangerous  and  insidious  foe  of 
honest  womanhood.  Penniless,  she  had  no  choice 
but  to  accept  the  offer  to  pay  her  expenses  to  New 
York,  or  whatever  city  she  chose,  and  to  see  that  she 
did  not  suffer  for  the  necessaries  of  life  while  she  was 
engaged  in  seeking  a  new  situation. 

It  was  a  very  dark  hour  for  her  when  she  landed, 
a  perfect  stranger,  in  the  metropolis,  and  sought  one 
of  the  cheapest  lodgings  she  could  find.  Work, 
plenty  apparently  for  the  million  people  around  her, 
did  not  seem  so  easy  to  obtain  as  she  had  been  told. 
Insult  was  offered  her  more  frequently  than  anything 
else,  and  her  life  grew  lonelier  as  time  went  by. 
Then  came  the  bright  face  of  Roland,  the  face  she 
had  resolved  not  to  look  upon,  the  face  she  had  been 


238  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

told  menaced  her  peace  in  this  world  and  the  next. 
She  had  been  given  courage  to  tell  him  he  must  not 
call  again,  though  it  nearly  tore  out  her  heartstrings 
to  do  it.  And  then,  when  the  night  was  darkest, 
Guy  Dalton  had  come. 

Maud  liked  Guy.  More  than  this,  she  trusted 
him.  He  was  as  safe  to  admit  to  her  confidence  as 
a  girl  friend  would  have  been.  She  walked  with 
him  in  the  summer  evenings,  took  dinner  opposite  to 
him  in  the  restaurants,  paying  her  own  share — some- 
thing she  insisted  upon  from  the  first.  Guy's  salary 
was  small,  and  Maud  hated  to  use  a  penny  more  than 
was  necessary  that  came  from  Willard  Linnette. 
Both  lived,  therefore,  in  the  most  economical  way, 
but.  economy  is  no  bar  to  happiness.  Indeed,  given 
a  sufficiency  of  food  and  clothing  to  supply  actual 
physical  needs,  I  think  more  real  contentment  is 
found  among  the  poor  than  among  the  rich.  Maud 
liked  Guy,  but  never  did  she  dream  of  loving  him. 
Removed  by  the  hard  hand  of  Fate  from  the  man 
she  still  adored,  her  young  heart  was  as  true  to  its 
idol  as  if  she  had  worn  an  engagement  ring  on  her 
finger. 

And  what  were  Guy's  sentiments  toward  Maud  ? 
At  first  they  were  those  of  sympathy  merely,  a 
desire  to  protect  this  innocent  creature  from  the 
rude  touch  of  the  thoughtless,  wicked  world.  As 
time  passed  he  liked  her  better  and  better,  and  per- 
haps he  imagined,  just  before  he  took  that  fateful 
journey,  that  he  loved  her.  People  get  to  liking 
each  other  so  well  that  in  the  absence  of  proof  to  the 
contrary  they  imagine  themselves  afflicted  with  the 


"POVERTY  is  A  WEARY  THING.*"  239 

grand(  passion.  I  have  known  of  cases  where  mar- 
riages followed  this  state  of  mind,  and  it  was  only 
on  awakening  some  weeks  later  that  the  unfortunate 
parties  discovered  their  mutual  error.  Guy  was 
almost  as  lonely  without  Maud  as  she  without  him. 
Roland  was  to  both  of  them  something  not  quite  of 
their  own  station,  not  exactly  a  comrade,  even  when 
he  seemed  most  like  one.  Their  poverty  and  their 
friendlessness  bound  them  together,  but  that  was 
all. 

When  it  became  apparent  that  the  elder  Linnette 
had  cast  his  nephew  off,  and  would  refuse  to  aid 
him  in  any  way,  Maud  had  a  little  flutter  in  her  left 
breast.  Were  Roland  to  become  in  reality  as  poor 
as  she,  he  would  not  look  so  far  away.  But  there 
arose  between  them  now  the  figure  of  Eva  Warren, 
whose  praises  he  never  tired  of  singing  to  those  ears 
that  heard  him  so  patiently,  though  with  such  pain. 

Roland  never  dreamed  what  agonies  Maud  suf- 
fered when  he  chatted  at  the  table,  of  this  beautiful 
girl,  and  reiterated  his  determination  to  marry  her, 
in  spite  of  all  the  Linnettes  ever  born.  And  then 
Guy  went  to  see  Tom  Hobbs,  and  to  tell  Eva  that 
her  lover  would  always  be  true  to  her,  and  that  she 
must  not  let  anything  take  her  from  him.  And  in 
his  absence  the  deplorable  event  occurred  that  dis- 
rupted the  little  group  of  three,  not  too  happy 
before,  but  now  utterly  miserable. 

It  was  impossible  for  her  to  stay  there  with 
Roland,  alone.  Nothing  remained  but  another 
struggle  to  support  herself.  She  had  used  up  all 
the  money  given  her  by  Mr.  Hanson,  and  had  fore- 


240  LOVE   AT    SEVENTY. 

borne  to  ask  for  more  since  she  had  violated  one  of 
his  principal  injunctions, — that  of  keeping  away 
from  young  Linnette.  The  life  that  opened  before 
her  was  unillumined  by  a  single  ray  of  hope. 

She  was  in  such  low  spirits  that  she  could  not 
resist  the  friendly  overtures  that  Roland  made  her 
on  the  morning  after  Guy's  departure.  He  ex- 
pressed such  hearty  sorrow  for  what  he  had  done 
that  she  was  quite  overwhelmed. 

"  How  did  I  ever  do  such  a  silly  thing !"  he 
exclaimed,  twenty  times,  and  with  each  exclamation 
his  lips  touched  her  fair  cheek.  "  I  resisted  the  temp- 
tation at  Montvale  till  I  thought  I  had  been  turned 
into  adamant.  Maud,  my  sweet  girl,  if  you  continue 
to  cry  I  shall  take  a  revolver,  that  I  have  in  the  other 
room,  and  spoil  your  best  carpet." 

Women  are  made  for  affection.  In  times  of  great 
mental  distress  they  turn  their  faces  toward  the  sun- 
light, no  matter  from  which  direction  it  comes.  Ro- 
land continued  to  talk  in  a  low  monotone,  vowing  to 
set  her  right  again  with  Guy,  no  matter  how  great  an 
apology  it  required.  He  referred  to  that  young 
man  so  often  that  she  felt  obliged  to  interpose  a 
word. 

"  You  are  quite  mistaken  about  Mr.  Dalton,"  she 
said.  "There  never  has  been  anything  between  us 
like — like  what  you  seem  to  think.  We  were  good 
friends,  nothing  more.  But  he  has  been  very  kind 
to  me,  and  I  wish  he  had  not  gone  away  with  such 
suspicions  in  his  mind.  I  have  driven  him  from  his 
home,  and  all  I  ask  is  to  return  it  to  him.  He  will 


"POVERTY  is  A  WKAEY  THIHO!"  241 

never  come  while  I  remain,  and  that  is  why  I  must 
go  as  soon  as  I  can." 

Roland  was  much  affected. 

"  Go,  child  !  Where  can  you  go?"  he  demanded. 
*'  You  have  no  relations  in  the  city,  as  you  have  often 
told  me.  Your  money  from  my  uncle  has  been 
stopped.  Let  us  talk  sensibly.  Guy  has  run  off  in 
a  sudden  fit  of  temper.  Soon  he  will  come  to  his 
senses  and  we  shall  have  him  back  again.  It  will 
not  do  for  you  or  me  to  desert  the  lighthouse.  We 
must  stay  here  and  keep  a  candle  in  the  window  for 
our  wanderer,  when  he  gets  tired  of  his  cruise  and 
turns  his  eyes  toward  home." 

With  that  he  kissed  her  again,  and  she  did  not  try 
to  stop  him,  though  she  was  by  no  means  ready  to 
accept  his  plan.  She  did  not  think  it  right  to  keep 
house  for  him  alone.  It  had  been  bad  enough  when 
three  of  them  were  together.  There  were  people, 
she  felt  sure,  who  would  look  askance  at  such  an 
arrangement  between  young  persons  of  opposite 
sexes. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  do,"  she  mused.  "  I  have 
made  trouble  for  you — with  your  uncle  ;  and  now  I 
have  made  trouble  for  him — for  Mr.  Dalton.  You 
have  both  befriended  me  and  received  a  very  poor 
return." 

Not  less  than  three  kisses  contented  Roland  after 
listening  to  that  speech.  He  put  his  arm  around 
her  waist,  declaring  that  both  he  and  Guy  owed  her 
the  most  abject  apologies  for  what  they  had  done, 
and  that  it  was  a  shame  for  her  to  accuse  herself  of 
anything. 


242  LOVK   AT   SEVENTY. 

"  You  must  do  nothing  precipitate,"  he  added.  •  * 
shall  never  let  you  out  into  this  town  again,  hunting 
for  work.  That  would  be  madness.  I  have  a  hun- 
dred dollars'  worth  of  furniture  that  can  be  sold, 
without  seriously  breaking  up  the  menage,  and  when 
that  is  gone,  if  all  else  fails,  I  have  another  string  to 
pull.  I  know,  in  spite  of  what  you  say,  that  I  am 
wholly  to  blame  for  all  this  row,  and  I  shall  do  my 
best  to  straighten  it  out." 

Finally,  an  arrangement  was  made  in  this  way. 
Maud  knew  of  a  girl,  one  of  the  dressmakers  where 
she  had  worked,  who  lived  down  on  Staten  Island 
and  had  to  come  and  go  every  day,  on  very  small 
wages.  She  thought  she  could  get  this  girl  to  come 
and  room  with  her  in  the  flat,  as  a  temporary  expe- 
dient, for  the  looks  of  the  thing.  If  this  succeeded 
she  would  remain  for  the  present,  while  Roland 
tried  to  make  things  right  with  Mr.  Dalton.  She 
did  not  like  the  idea  of  putting  on  her  hat  and  walk- 
ing out  into  the  New  York  streets,  without  money 
enough  to  pay  for  carting  her  trunk  to  a  room, 
the  rent  of  which  she  could  not  raise. 

To  all  this  Roland  agreed  with  pleasure,  though 
he  protested  mildly  that  the  feminine  addition  to 
the  household  was  a  reflection  on  him  that  was  un- 
warranted. He  also  warned  her  solemnly  that  in 
case  her  friend  was  handsome,  she  would  be  more 
than  likely  to  regret  introducing  her.  He  was  so 
bright,  in  spite  of  all  his  troubles,  that  the  girl  soon 
resumed  her  old  manner.  She  set  out  the  lunch  and 
they  partook  of  it  together.  Before  it  was  finished 
he  had  her  actually  laughing  at  hfe  pleasantries. 


"  POVKBTY    IS   A    WKAKY    THING  !"  243 

During  the  afternoon  Maud  arranged  the  mat- 
ter with  her  friend,  the  maker  of  dresses,  who 
agreed  to  room  at  the  flat  and  take  her  breakfast 
there,  getting  her  other  meals  outside.  This  suited 
Roland  very  well,  when  Maud  told  him  of  it  at 
dinner. 

For  the  next  three  days  Roland  hunted  for  Guy. 
He  went  to  the  restaurants  he  had  formerly  patron- 
ized, inquired  at  the  house  w-here  he  had  roomed  on 
Tenth  Avenue,  dropped  in  at  the  office  of  the  Mont- 
vale  Optical  Company,  and  walked  the  streets  peer- 
ing into  every  face  that  passed.  In  the  intervals  he 
tried  to  pick  out  the  furniture  he  talked  of  selling, 
and  once  brought  a  buyer  of  secondhand  goods  to 
look  at  it.  But  when  the  man  offered  him  twenty- 
three  dollars  for  what  had  cost  one  hundred  and 
seventy-five,  he  broke  into  blasphemy  and  frightened 
the  dealer  so  that  he  ran  away  without  looking 
behind  him.  "  I  won't  give  the  stuff  to  these  wolves 
till  I  have  tried  everything  else,"  said  Roland  to 
Maud.  "  I  am  going  to  pull  that  other  string  I  told 
you  of.  It's  a  thing  I  hate,  but  the  landlord's  agent 
will  be  on  our  necks  in  a  week,  and  there's  no  help. 
Not  only  is  the  rent  nearly  due,  but  the  ship  is 
running  short  of  provisions." 

The  girl  put  her  hand  instinctively  on  his  arm. 

"  It  is  perfectly  honest — of  course — the  way  you 
are  going  to  get  this  money,"  she  said,  with  a  deep 
blush. 

"To  be  sure,"  he  retorted,  reddening  also.  "Do 
you  think  me  a  brigand,  my  child  ?  I'm  not  half  as 
bad,  dear,  as  they've  made  me  out  to  you." 


244  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

He  took  her  face  between  his  hands  and  drew  it 
to  his  own. 

"  If  I  had  the  fortune  I  have  lost,  Maudie,"  he 
murmured,  ''no  other  man  should  ever  press  his  lips 
to  yours." 

The  girl  could  not  resist  him.  He  kissed  her 
without  the  least  trace  of  passion  and  went  out. 

She  stood  where  he  had  left  her,  pondering  on 
those  words  of  his.  What  did  they  mean  ?  "  If  he 
were  rich,  no  other  man  should  ever  touch  her  lips." 
But  he  was  engaged  to  that  young  lady  in  Montvale  ! 
Ah,  God  !  To  be  so  poor,  to  hold  so  much  love,  and 
to  hear  such  an  intimation  as  that  ! 

A  flush  of  shame  that  she  should  have  listened  to 
him,  that  she  should  have  permitted  him  to  touch 
her,  covered  the  girl's  cheeks.  And  yet,  he  had  not 
looked  as  if  he  meant  to  offer  an  affront.  With  the 
great  riddle  in  her  tired  brain  Maud  turned  to  her 
household  labors,  tears  coursing  slowly  down  her 
cheeks. 

An  hour  later  she  heard  a  knock  at  the  door. 
Supposing  it  to  be  the  grocer's  boy,  she  went  to 
open  it. 

"Mr.  Linnette  !"  she  gasped. 

It  was  Mr.  Willard  Linnette,  indeed.  He  was  even 
more  astonished,  not  to  say  grieved,  than  she,  for  he 
had  no  idea  that  he  would  find  her  in  his  nephew's 
apartments.  But  he  silently  entered  and  closed  the 
door  behind  him. 


A   BENIGNANT   OLD   GENTLEMAN.  245 


CHAPTER     XXV. 

A      BENIGNANT     OLD      GENTLEMAN. 

As  Roland  walked  along  the  street,  after  leaving 
Maud,  he  whistled  a  low  tune.  He  had  surprised 
himself  by  what  he  said  to  her.  But  he  knew 
that  he  meant  every  word  of  it,  and  that,  strange 
though  it  might  be,  he  cared  more  for  that  girl 
than  for  any  other  who  breathed. 

Mecurial  in  temperament,  changeful  as  a  weather- 
vane,  he  was  greatly  influenced  by  the  pathetic  situa- 
tion into  which  his  actions  had  driven  this  young 
woman.  It  was  clear  to  him  that  he  had  done  her  a 
wrong,  and  he  wanted  to  offer  reparation.  If  in 
doing  so  he  proved  false  to  another — that  was  an 
incidental  that  he  had  not  yet  had  time  to  discuss. 

The  errand  on  which  he  had  started  was  most  dis- 
agreeable. He  would  not  have  believed,  a  month 
before,  that  he  could  do  it.  Now  there  was  no 
choice.  He  was  going  to  see  his  father  and  ask  aid 
of  him. 

In  front  of  a  handsome  residence  on  Thirty-eighth 
Street,  not  far  from  Lexington  Avenue,  he  stopped. 
Mustering  courage  with  an  effort,  he  ascended  the 
steps  and  pulled  the  bell.  A  man-servant  in  livery 
responded  to  the  summons. 

"  Is  Mr.  Linnette  at  home  ?"  asked  Roland. 


246  LOTE    AT   SEVENTY. 

"Yes,  sir;  but  he  is  very  busy.  Is  it  anything 
particular  ?" 

"  I  wish  to  see  him." 

j     "  If  you'll  give  me  your  card,  sir,  I'll  inquire." 
/     Though  he  had  not  been  asked  to  enter,  either  by 
word  or  look,  Roland  stepped  into  the  hallway. 

"  I  have  not  my  card-case  with  me,"  he  said,  curtly. 
"  Tell  him  a  gentleman  is  waiting  in  the  reception- 
room." 

He  turned  away  abruptly,  but  the  servant  did  not 
seem  satisfied. 

"  He's  awful  busy  sir.  Is  it — have  you  anything 
to  sell  ?" 

The  young  man  turned  on  his  questioner  savagely. 

"  He  is  my  father  !    Tell  him  that  his  son  is  here  !" 

At  that  the  servant  bowed  almost  literally  in  the 
dust,  or  would  have  done  so  had  the  remarkably 
clean  surroundings  contained  any  of  that  material. 
He  begged  Mr.  Roland's  pardon,  and  explained  that, 
"as  there  were  so  many  agents  about,  and  as  Mr. 
Linnette  had  a  horror  of  them,  and  never,  under  any 
circumstances,  bought  anything,  and  as  he  was  so 
very  busy  to-day,  and  as — " 

"Will  you  tell  him  I  am  here?"  shouted  the 
visitor. 

This  sufficed  to  cut  short  the  apology  that  bade 
fair  to  be  endless.  Roland  looked  around  the  room, 
elegantly  furnished,  adorned  with  works  of  art  on 
all  sides.  It  was  a  very  long  time  since  he  had  been 
in  that  house — a  time  dating  back  to  the  last  of  his 
school-days.  He  had  disliked  his  father  ever  since 
he  eould  remember.  Their  few  interviews  had  been 


A   BENIGNANT   OLD   GENTLBMAW.  247 

very  brief.  Nothing  like  a  war  of  words  had  ever 
arisen,  but  the  coolness  toward  him  of  his  nearest 
living  relation,  galled  him  terribly.  And  now,  to 
have  to  come  here  like  this  ! 

The  serving  man  returned. 

"  Mr.  Linnette  is  very  sorry,  but  he  is  editing  an 
article  for  a  magazine,  and  could  you  call  Monday  ?" 

Roland  looked  so  darkly  at  him  that  the  man 
recoiled  a  step. 

"  Where  is  he  ?"  he  demanded. 

"  In  his  chamber,  sir." 

Two  steps  at  a  time  the  son  mounted  the  stairs. 
Throwing  open  the  door  without  ceremony,  he  strode 
into  the  room  where  Payson  Linnette  was  writing. 

"Did  you  send  word  to  me  to  '  call  again  ?' "  he 
asked,  bitterly.  "  And  did  you  understand  who 
wanted  you  ?" 

The  venerable  gentleman  looked  up  with  a  mild 
but  slightly  annoyed  expression. 

"  You  interrupt  my  work,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone. 

His  long  gray  hair  swept  the  turned-down  collar 
that  was  twice  the  ordinary  width.  He  wore  a 
velvet  coat  and  a  sailor-knot  cravat. 

"I  will  interrupt  it  but  a  minute,"  replied  Roland. 
"I  want  some  money  !  It  is  the  only  time  I  have 
asked  you  for  any  since  I  was  old  enough  to  remem- 
ber. Give  me  five  hundred  dollars  and  I  promise  it 
shall  be  the  last." 

The  venerable  brows  were  lifted  slightly  at  the 
proposition. 

"I  must  decline,"  said  the  elder  man.  "Your 
Uncle  Willard  assumed  charge  of  you  many  years 


248  LOVE   AT    SEVENTY. 

ago.  There  was  a  perfect  understanding  that  you 
should  look  to  him  for  everything.  If  you  have  lost 
his  goodwill  you  must  seek  to  regain  it.  As  I  have 
an  important  piece  of  work  on  hand,  I  hope  you  will 
not  disturb  me  further." 

The  son's  astonishment  would  hardly  let  him  speak. 
He  had  known  something  of  the  nature  of  his  father, 
but  he  had  not  anticipated  a  refusal. 

"  One  word,"  he  said,  and  again  the  benignant 
brows  were  lifted  deprecatingly.  "Whatever  the 
cause,  whose  ever  the  fault,  I  and  my  uncle  have 
quarrelled.  I  am  at  the  end  of  my  resources.  With- 
out money  at  once  I  shall  be  turned  into  the  street. 
I  have  sought  work  in  vain.  Unless  you  assist  me  I 
shall  become  either  a  beggar  or  a  thief." 

The  annoyed  look  deepened  on  the  venerable  face. 
Reaching  slowly  into  his  pocket,  Payson  Linnette 
fumbled  among  the  bills  there  and  finally  drew  out 
ten  dollars. 

"I  ought  not  to  do  it — it  will  inconvenience  me," 
he  murmured,  "  but  you  may  have  that.  If  you 
are  frugal  it  will  last  you  till  you  can  communi- 
cate with  my  brother  and  beg  his  pardon.  Good- 
day." 

The  father  turned  to  his  writing,  as  if  he  con- 
sidered the  interview  finished.  For  several  seconds 
Roland  stood  there,  unable  to  utter  one  of  the 
indignant  things  with  which  his  mind  was  filled. 

"  I  am  in  doubt,"  he  said  at  last,  "  whether  to  take 
that  money  and  stuff  it  down  your  throat,  or  spend 
it  in  poison  to  end  a  life  disgraced  by  being 
drawn  from  such  a  wretch  !  You  have  lived  all 


-A.  BEHIOlf  AJTT  OLD   OKNTLEMAH.  249 

these  years — as  I  did — on  the  bounty  of  your  suc- 
cessful relation,  which,  having  no  blood  nor  heart 
to  cause  you  to  rebel,  you  are  able  to  retain.  I  care 
not  what  becomes  of  me  now.  No  greater  disgrace 
can  fall  to  my  lot  than  to  have  had  you  for  my 
father  !" 

With  the  air  of  a  sovereign  ruler,  Roland  left  the 
room  and  the  house.  A  moment  later  Mr.  Linnette 
summoned  the  man-servant  who  attended  the  street 
door  and  smiled  upon  him  in  his  usual  benevolent 
way. 

"You  know  how  much  I  hate  to  be  disturbed, 
Kelly,"  he  said.  "  Hereafter — if  you  wish  to  retain 
your  position — be  more  careful." 

"  He  told  me  he  was  your  son,  sir,"  stammered 
the  man. 

"  Here-after,"  repeated  his  employer,  "  be  more 
care-ful.  No  per-son  must  be  al-lowed  to  dis-turb 
me,  under  any  cir-cum-stances." 

Kelly  bowed  humbly  and  was  glad  to  escape  to 
the  floor  below.  He  had  served  gentlemen,  in  his 
day,  who  were  sometimes  violent  in  their  language  ; 
but  never  had  he  felt  so  uneasy  as  when  in  the 
presence  of  this  pattern  of  propriety. 

Roland,  too  angry  almost  to  contain  himself, 
returned  to  his  home.  He  must  tell  Maud  of  the 
failure  of  that  "string "  which  he  had  believed 
would  save  them,  when  worse  came  to  worst.  There 
was  a  half-formed  idea  in  his  mind  of  selling  every- 
thing he  had  for  what  it  would  bring;  giving  her 
the  sum,  going  to  the  wharves  and  shipping  as 
a  sailor. 


250  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

The  uncle,  who  heard  his  step,  signalled  to  Miss 
Arline  not  to  betray  his  presence  for  a  few  moments, 
and  she,  in  great  doubt  how  to  act,  stood,  physically 
and  metaphorically,  between  the  two  men. 

"What  do  you  think!"  he  cried,  as  soon  as  he 
entered  the  room.  "  I  went  to  my  father — my  own 
father,  mind  you  ! — to  ask  him  for  a  paltry  five  hun- 
dred dollars.  I  told  him  I  had  nothing  left  and  that 
it  was  either  this  or  starvation,  or  even  robbery.  Of 
course,  I  did  not  mean  the  last,  dear,  but  I  had  to 
say  something.  And  what  did  he  do  ?  He  pushed 
me  a  ten  dollar  bill  across  the  table,  murmured  that 
he  was  very  busy,  and  said  that  was  all  he  could 
give  !  I  wanted  to  strangle  him  where  he  sat — I — 

Willard  Linnette,  who  had  been  hidden  by  an 
open  door  leading  to  another  room,  stepped  forward 
with  distended  eyes. 

"  Did  my  brother  do  that  ("  he  exclaimed,  in  a 
trembling  voice. 

Roland  looked  from  one  to  the  other  in  amaze- 
ment. Maud  was  gazing  fixedly  at  the  carpet, 
unable  to  speak  or  look  at  him.  What  did  it  mean  ? 

"  Yes,  your  brother  did  just  that  !"  retorted  the 
young  man,  when  he  could  command  himself. 
"  Does  it  surprise  you  ?  Did  he  ever  show  the 
slightest  interest  in  me  ?  I  was  a  fool  to  go  to  him, 
but  it  was  either  that  or  death.  I  can  get  nothing 
to  do,  and  I  am  desperate." 

Tears  came  into  the  old  man's  eyes — tears  that 
changed  the  manner  of  his  nephew  toward  him  in 
an  instant.  The  tender  recollections  of  childhood 


A  BENIGNANT  OLD  GENTLEMAN.  251 

returned  and  blotted  out  all   that  had  happened 

pi  nee. 

"Under  he  cried. 
"Roland!" 
In  a  moment  their  arms  were  about  eacn  other.- 


252  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

MR.    LINNETTE'S   STRANGE    STORT. 

"Would  you  mind  leaving  us  together  for  a  little 
while  ?"  asked  Mr.  Linnette,  of  Maud,  when  he  had 
again  resumed  his  seat. 

Then,  when  the  door  closed  behind  the  girl,  he 
had  a  long  talk  with  his  nephew.  A  very  important 
talk  it  was,  too. 

"  I  want  to  say,  to  begin  with,"  said  he,  "  that  I 
have  questioned  the  young  woman  who  just  left 
the  room  and  am  satisfied  that  I  have  wronged  her 
seriously.  She  is,  if  I  am  a  judge,  a  pure,  sweet 
girl,  fit  to  be  the  companion  of  any  man  who  lives. 
If  I  had  not  something  to  tell  you,  however,  that 
completely  fills  my  mind  and  heart,  I  should  express 
a  doubt  whether  it  is  for  her  lasting  happiness  to  be 
thrown  too  much  into  your  society.  Do  not  mis- 
understand me,"  he  added,  as  Roland's  cheeks  began 
to  flush  ;  "  I  mean  nothing  unkind.  In  the  hour  I 
have  been  here  I  have  discovered,  beyond  question, 
that  she  cares  too  much  for  you." 

Roland  was  not  in  a  mood  to  comprehend  the 
meaning  of , this  statement,  and  he  inquired  what  his 
relation  meant. 

"Why,"  stammered  Mr.  Linnette,  "  I  believe  she 
fovts  you,  to  put  it  plainly  ;  and  you  can  see  howun- 


MB.   LINKS-TIE'S    8TEANGE   STOET.  253 

happy  that  may  make  her,  when  she  finds  that  your 
affections  are  enlisted  elsewhere." 

The  young  man  breathed  a  deep  sigh. 

"  Oh,  uncle,"  he  replied,  "  I  must  seem  like  a  very 
strange  fellow  to  you,  but  you  should  know  the 
truth.  Within  the  past  few  days  it  has  grown  clear 
to  me  that  I  have  been  mistaken  all  along  ;  that 
the  sentiment  which  I  have  for  Miss  Arline  is  the 
true  one,  and  that  Miss  Warren — " 

Mr.  Linnette  sprang  to  his  feet  and  held  out  his 
arms  again,  overcome  with  joy. 

"You  do  not  mean — "  he  began. 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  said  Roland.  "  I  regret  deeply,  for 
her  sake,  that  things  have  gone  so  far.  For  I  will 
not  deny  to  you,"  he  explained,  "  that  we  have  cor- 
responded, in  spite  of  your  prohibition.  I  began,  I 
think,  by  pitying  Eva,  who  complained  of  the  close- 
ness of  her  confinement,  and  before  I  knew  it  I  had 
asked  her  to  marry  me  and  she  had  consented.  I 
now  mean  to  write  again,  telling  my  whole  story  and 
begging  her  to  release  me.  It  looks  cowardly,  but 
it  is  the  only  thing  left  under  the  circumstances." 

The  fact  that  his  nephew  was  about  to  relinquish 
his  aspirations  to  Eva's  hand  was  all  that  Willard 
Linnette  comprehended,  or  wished  to  know.  He 
threw  his  arms  around  him  once  more,  calling  him 
his  dear  Roland,  and  assuring  him  that  his  affection 
had  endured  through  everything. 

"  But  now,"  he  said,  soberly,  when  he  again  be- 
came tranquil,  "  I  have  a  story  of  my  jwn  to  telL 
Lask  week  I  learned  a  secret  that  had  been  kept 
from  me  for  many  years,  a  secret  of  vital  importance. 


254  LOVB   AT   SEVENTY. 

Roland,  it  is  extremely  probable  that  I  have  a  living 
child  somewhere  in  the  world,  who  has  no  idea  of  its 
parentage." 

The  young  man  eyed  his  relation  curiously.  What 
kind  of  a  statement  was  this,  to  be  made  by  that 
venerable  man,  that  stickler  for  forms,  that  detester 
of  the  very  mildest  dissipation  ! 

"  You — have — a  child  T  he  repeated. 

"  Yes,  Roland,  unless  death  has  taken  it  from  me 
even  before  I  have  found  and  claimed  it.  1  came 
here  to  tell  you  the  story,  and  to  ask  you  to  enter 
with  me  at  once  upon  the  search  that  has  been 
instituted." 

Quite  stunned  by  the  revelation,  Roland  kept 
perfectly  still. 

"  At  the  age  of  thirty-five,"  said  Mr.  Linnette, 
slowly,  "  I  made  a  trip  through  New  England,  on  a 
vacation,  driving  from  place  to  place  alone.  Fre- 
quently I  had  to  pass  the  night  in  villages  so  small 
that  they  did  not  boast  a  hotel.  One  night  the 
family  with  which  I  stopped  contained  two  daugh- 
ters. One  was  about  twenty-five  years  of  age,  the 
other  sixteen.  Their  name  was  Lincoln." 

And  then  he  went  on  with  a  long  story,  which  may 
as  well  be  put  into  the  words  of  the  author.  Some- 
thing in  the  elder  daughter  interested  the  guest, 
who  had  been,  up  to  that  time,  wholly  oblivious  to 
feminine  attractions,  engrossed  as  he  was  in  his 
business  enterprises.  Although  he  had  intended  to 
xemain  but  one  day  in  the  village,  he  stayed  a  fort- 
night. Before  he  went  away  a  correspondence  was 
arranged.  Fpr  a  number  of  years  the  manufacturer 


ME.    LIimBTTE*8   STRANGE   8TOBY.  255 

made  quarterly  visits  to  his  new  friends.  In  the 
meantime  the  parents  of  the  two  girls  died,  leaving 
them  to  find  their  sole  reliance  on  each  other.  Noth» 
ing  definite  had  been  spoken  upon  the  subject  of 
marriage,  but  the  elder  girl,  whose  name  was  Ber- 
tha, considered  this  the  unquestionable  outcome  of 
the  affair.  She  iiad  fallen  deeply  in  love,  and  waited 
patiently  for  the  day  when  she  should  be  asked  the 
inevitable  question. 

In  all  this  time,  Mr.  Linnette  had  never  hinted  to 
the  Lincolns  that  he  was  possessed  of  more  than  the 
average  fortune.  His  early  life  had  been  one  of 
great  hardship,  and  when  the  thought  of  marriage 
occurred  to  him,  he  wanted  a  wife  who  would  wed 
him  for  himself  and  not  for  his  money. 

On  being  asked  once  by  a  villager  if  he  were 
related  to  the  Linnettes  of  Montvale,  he  replied 
evasively  that  he  believed  he  was  connected  with 
that  family.  His  letters  were  all  dated  at  New 
York,  where,  it  was  understood,  he  was  clerk  in  an 
office. 

But  Cupid  plays  strange  pranks.  After  going 
several  times  each  year  to  visit  Miss  Bertha,  after 
writing  her  hundreds  of  letters,  Mr.  Linnette  dis- 
covered that  the  younger  sister,  a  child  when  he  first 
knew  her,  had  blossomed  into  one  of  the  prettiest  of 
women.  His  long  delay  had  allowed  Bertha  to 
reach  an  age  when  female  charms  begin  to  fade, 
while  Beatrice  had  just  arrived  at  her  full  beauty. 
The  slow  wooer  turned  almost  unconsciously  toward 
the  rising  sun  ;  and  the  words  he  had  never  spoken 


956  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 

to  the  elder  sister  began  to  come  upon  his  lips  when 

he  was  alone  with  the  younger  one. 

Not  realizing  the  extent  of  the  affection  which 
Bertha  had  developed  for  him — none  are  so  blind  as 
those  in  love — he  resolved  to  make  Beatrice  his  wife 
if  she  would  accept  him.  It  was  then  that  a  hun- 
dred artisans  were  sent  to  Montvale,  to  create  the 
most  beautiful  home  in  all  that  region  for  his  future 
bride.  But  in  the  whispered  confidences  which  he 
gave  to  Beatrice,  nothing  was  intimated  of  the 
wealth  he  possessed.  He  meant  to  bring  her,  like 
the  bride  of  the  Lord  of  Burleigh,  to 

...  "a  mansion  more  majestic 
Than  all  those  she  saw  before," 

and  to  spend  there  with  her  the  remainder  of  what 
bade  fair  to  be  a  happy  and  contented  life. 

At  last  the  day  came  when  he  proposed  to  the 
younger  sister,  and  was  accepted.  The  elder  one 
had  seen  the  drift  of  matters  for  some  time,  and 
though  her  heart  was  breaking,  she  bore  the  pain 
like  a  mediaeval  martyr,  never  uttering  a  word  to 
lessen  the  happiness  of  Beatrice. 

As  the  home  which  he  intended  for  his  wife  was 
not  yet  completed,  Mr.  Linnette  took  her  to  New 
York,  where  he  kept  up  the  illusion  of  being  in 
moderate  circumstances,  in  order  to  enjoy  her  sur- 
prise the  more  when  she  should  see  the  glories  of 
Montvale.  Prospects  of  an  heir  to  his  fortune  and 
house  came  to  gladden  the  husband  and  to  make  him 


KB.   LIKNBTTE's^STEAJfOB   STOBT.  257 

feel  that  his  cup  of  joy  was  soon  to  be  filled  to  the 
brim.  But,  alas  !  The  future  is  for  no  man  to  read  ! 

As  Beatrice  seemed  in  excellent  health,  Mr.  Lin- 
nette  felt  justified  in  leaving  her  for  seven  or  eight 
weeks,  when  invited  to  join  a  party  of  scientific  men 
who  were  going  to  one  of  the  Pacific  Islands  to  view 
an  eclipse.  The  young  wife  urged  him  to  go,  say- 
ing she  did  not  need  the  least  care  and  that  he  would 
return  long  before  the  day  of  her  especial  trial.  An 
unlooked-for  delay  occurred,  however,  and  when  he 
reached  San  Francisco,  on  his  return,  he  received  a 
letter  from  Bertha,  containing  the  saddest  imagin- 
able news. 

The  young  wife  had  been  taken  suddenly  ill,  so 
the  letter  said,  and  in  spite  of  every  effort,  had 
expired  with  her  unborn  child.  She  had  sent  for 
her  sister,  who  had  done  everything  possible,  but  all 
in  vain.  The  body  had  been  taken  to  her  former 
home  and  interred  in  her  father's  lot. 

Mr.  Linnette  was  so  prostrated  by  this  news  that 
he  felt  unable  even  to  visit  his  sister-in-law.  He 
sent  a  generous  check,  asking  her  to  accept  it  for 
the  expense  and  trouble  she  had  undergone,  but  the 
larger  share  was  returned  to  him,  with  the  statement 
that  she  would  take  only  what  she  had  actually 
expended.  The  manufacturer  ordered  all  the  work 
stopped  on  his  elegant  residence.  He  never  saw 
Bertha  again  and  soon  ceased  to  hear  from  her. 
The  little  son  of  his  brother  Payson,  left  motherless 
some  time  before,  then  began  to  attract  his  atten- 
tion. For  this  boy  he  had  his  mansion  finished. 

And  now  comes  the  strangest  part  of  the  story. 


258  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

Beatrice,  when  she  died,  was  the  mother  of  a  ten- 
hours-old  babe,  which,  though  born  before  its  time, 
was  healthy  and  likely  to  live.  The  mad  idea  seized 
Bertha  to  take  this  child  away,  and  keep  the  knowl- 
edge of  its  existence  from  its  father.  She  had  lost 
both  lover  and  sister,  and  her  heart  pined  for  some 
creature  on  which  to  lavish  the  affection  that  welled 
up  in  her  maiden  breast. 

She  supposed  Mr.  Linnette  what  he  represented 
himself,  a  man  in  ordinary  circumstances,  who  would 
find  a  motherless  child  a  burden.  There  was  plenty 
of  opportunity  to  carry  out  her  hastily  formed  plan. 
The  death  of  her  father  had  put  her  in  possession  of 
a  little  money,  and  she  was  in  want  of  nothing  in  the 
simple  way  she  desired  to  live. 

Taken  suddenly  ill,  years  after,  Miss  Lincoln  had 
been  moved  to  confide  her  cherished  secret  to  a 
clergyman  of  the  town  where  she  resided.  She  ex- 
acted a  promise  from  him  that  he  would  try  to  find 
her  adopted  child's  father.  If  he  succeeded,  the  child 
was  to  be  told  of  its  parentage,  but  if  not,  it  was  to 
be  kept  in  ignorance. 

Miss  Bertha  only  knew  of  Willard  Linnette  as  a 
clerk  in  the  employ  of  some  house  whose  name  she 
had  never  heard,  and  as  a  distant  relation  of  the 
famous  man  whose  name  he  bore.  The  minister 
did  not  mean  to  confide  his  secret  to  every  person 
he  met.  It  was  his  object  to  make  inquiries,  not  to 
answer  them.  He  went  as  far,  on  one  occasion,  as 
to  penetrate  the  private  office  of  the  very  man  he 
sought,  but  left  it  no  wiser  than  he  came.  The 
optical  instrument  maker  told  him  that  he  had 


MB.  LIXNETTH'S  STBANOE  STOET.  259 

never  known  of  any  Willard  Linnette  except  him- 
self.  Discouraged  at  the  obstacles  he  encountered 
the  minister  returned  to  his  home,  feeling  that  his 
duty  was  ended. 

Roland  listened  to  this  tale  with  mixed  feelings. 
He  was  rather  disappointed  to  find  that  his  uncle's 
life  held  no  scandal,  after  all.  He  had  expected, 
from  the  introduction,  to  hear  of  an  unchaste  love, 
and  the  thought  of  such  a  thing  in  connection  with 
that  austere  man  had  thrilled  him  to  the  utmost. 
However,  it  was  interesting  enough. 

*;  A  short  time  ago,"  said  Mr.  Linnette,  in  conclu- 
sion, "  the  revelation  was  made  in  a  most  peculiar 
way.  At  a  dinner  given  in  honor  of  a  distinguished 
foreign  savant  I  was  placed  next  to  a  prominent 
physician,  who  long  since  abandoned  the  practice  of 
medicine  for  the  more  entrancing  pursuit  of  astrono- 
mical knowledge.  In  the  course  of  our  conversation 
he  remarked  that  the  name  of  Willard  Linnette  al- 
ways brought  a  sad  recollection  to  his  mind.  '  The 
first  mother  I  ever  lost  in  childbirth,'  he  said,  '  was 
the  wife  of  a  gentleman  of  that  name.'  Reminded 
thus  of  the  inquiries  that  had  been  made  of  me  by 
the  clergyman,  I  inquired  where  the  lady  had  re- 
sided. Judge  of  my  surprise  when  he  mentioned  the 
street  and  number  where  I  had  made  my  temporary 
home  with  my  young  bride. 

"  Before  he  finished,  this  doctor  had  said  enough 
to  convince  me  that  my  wife  had  given  birth  to  a 
living  child.  The  next  morning,  as  you  may  im- 
agine, I  was  on  the  train  that  would  take  me  nearest 
to  the  town  where  Bertha  Lincoln  had  resided. 


260  LOVE  AT  SEVENTY. 

There  I  learned  that  some  months  after  the  death  of 
her  sister  she  had  'adopted/  as  she  claimed,  a  child 
found  in  an  asylum,  but  which  I  have  proved  she 
brought  from  New  York.  The  clergyman  has  re- 
tired from  the  ministry,  but  by  the  description  I 
gave  of  him  he  was  easily  identified  and  I  have 
communicated  with  him." 

Roland  listened  without  interruption,  and  when 
his  uncle  finished  he  asked — 

"Have  you  found  your  child  yet?" 

"No,"  was  the  sad  reply,  "  but  I  shall  move  heave* 
and  earth  until  it  is  accomplished  1" 


TOC   ABB  A   COOL  ONE. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

"YOU     ARE     A     COOL     ONE." 

A  more  disagreeable  situation  could  easily  be  con- 
ceived than  that  of  Mr.  Guy  Dalton,  during  the 
next  few  days  after  he  became  the  guest  of  Eva  War- 
ren. In  the  wing  of  the  great  mansion  that  had 
been  practically  given  up  to  Eva,  he  was  as  secure 
from  intrusions  of  an  objectionable  nature  as  if  in  a 
mountain  fastness.  Nobody  dreamed  of  his  presence 
there,  else  it  is  very  certain  he  would  not  have  been 
allowed  to  remain  long.  Mrs.  Grundy  would  have 
viewed  the  affair  with  her  severest  frown,  had  it 
come  to  her  attention.  On  general  principles  the 
usually  meddlesome  old  lady  would  have  been  right, 
for  this  once.  But  with  such  a  phenomenally  good 
young  man  as  Guy,  such  a  paragon  of  innocence  as 
Eva,  and  such  a  very  wise  young  maiden  as  Char- 
lotte, all  was  sure  to  go  properly. 

Eva  was  certain  that,  if  she  could  only  get  an  in- 
terview with  Mr.  Linnette,  and  tell  him  she  would 
no  longer  oppose  his  wishes  about  Roland,  she 
could  enlist  his  kind  interest  in  securing  for  Guy  the 
position  he  had  lost.  What  was  to  follow  she  did 
not  exactly  know,  but  she  believed,  when  the  manu- 
facturer once  got  acquainted  with  Guy,  he  would 
see  his  good  qualities  and  insure  his  subsequent  rise 
in  the  business.  As  for  herself,  this  plan  left  her 


262  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

at  Montvale,  it  was  true,  but  since  her  experience 
with  Roland  she  felt  more  reconciled  to  her  quiet 
home.  She  had  dreamed  of  a  happiness  that  could 
never  have  been  hers,  for  a  lover  who  would  act  as 
he  had  done  would  be  sure  to  make  a  most  unreli- 
able husband.  So  thought  this  wise  young  woman, 
and  more  than  likely  she  was  not  far  out  of  the  way 
in  her  conjectures. 

But  there  was  a  certain  satisfaction  in  the  very 
presence  of  such  a  fine  young  fellow  as  Dalton.  As 
she  partook  with  him  of  the  coffee  and  toast  and 
eggs  that  Charlotte  brought,  she  decided  that  it  was, 
on  the  whole,  the  most  romantic  thing  she  had  ever 
heard  of.  Roland's  midnight  visits  were  not  to  be 
compared  with  it.  In  the  old  novels  that  she  bor- 
rowed from  the  library  there  were  tales  of  mysteri- 
ous underground  passages,  with  pass-words  and 
knocks  known  only  to  the  initiated.  But  the  cav- 
erns were  always  gloomy,  and  she  was  certain  they 
must  have  been  damp.  It  was  much  nicer  to  have 
four  hero  hidden  in  the  upper  story  of  a  modern 
house,  right  over  the  heads  of  his  natural  enemies, 
where  he  could  peep  through  the  closed  shutters  at 
his  baffled  pursuers. 

All  day  long  these  young  people  talked  together, 
of  life,  and  literature,  and  the  things  they  knew  and 
the  things  they  thought.  It  was  noon  before  they 
supposed  it  eleven  o'clock,  time  for  dinner  long  ere 
they  felt  hungry,  the  hour  for  retiring  when  the 
evening  seemed  only  begun.  Charlotte  was  their 
timepiece,  and  they  obeyed  her  suggestions  im- 
plicitly. 


"TOU   ABB   A  COOL  ONE."  263 

Weaned  by  that  one  blow  from  Roland,  it  is  no 
wonder  that  Eva  found  the  society  of  Guy  more 
than  delightful.  A  week  may  equal  a  month  or  a 
year  when  two  people  of  their  age  are  thrown  into 
each  others'  exclusive  company  for  almost  every  one 
of  their  waking  hours. 

One  evening,  when  Guy  had  been  at  the  Linnette 
mansion  for  nearly  a  week,  he  found  himself  unable 
to  sleep,  and  after  trying  in  vain  to  "  woo  the  drowsy 
god,"  he  dressed  himself,  took  the  key  to  the  door  in 
the  rear  wall  by  which  Charlotte  had  admitted  him 
to  the  estate,  and  went  outside  the  grounds  for  a 
stroll.  It  was  a  most  imprudent  thing  to  do,  but  he 
thought  it  safe  enough,  from  what  he  knew  of  the 
character  of  the  villagers.  In  this  case,  however,  he 
had  made  a  mistake,  for  he  had  not  been  walking 
ten  minutes  when  he  came  suddenly  upon  another 
stroller,  and  one  of  the  last  men  he  would  have 
cared  to  meet. 

It  was  Tom  Hobbs.  There  was  no  escaping  the 
keen  eyes  of  the  old  man,  which  recognized  him 
instantly,  in  spite  of  the  semi-darkness,  and  Dalton 
stopped  when  he  heard  his  name  pronounced. 

"  Well,  well  !  This  is  a  surprise  !"  said  Hobbs. 
"  How  came  you  here  and  where  are  you  going  at 
this  time  of  night  ?" 

Guy  was,  happily,  on  the  road  that  led  to  Ells- 
worth, and  apparently  coming  toward  Montvale  from 
that  direction.  He  replied,  with  alacrity,  that  he  had 
walked  over  again,  to  have  a  talk  with  Mr.  Hobbs, 
and  was  just  going  to  his  residence. 

"  Pshaw  !"  said  Hobbs.     "  You  don't  say  !     It's 


264  LOVE  AT  SEVENTY. 

lucky  I  happened  to  see  you,  for  I  got  wakeful  and 
was  out  trying  to  walk  off  the  blues.  That  matter 
of  Linnette  and  his  nephew  rests  on  my  mind  all  the 
time.  I'm  afraid  the  boy  is  actually  suffering  for 
funds,  and  I  can't  make  out  why  he  doesn't  write  me 
a  word.  Did  you  give  him  the  message  I  sent  by 
you,  that  time  you  came  up  here  ?" 

Somewhat  confused,  not  only  at  the  unexpected 
meeting,  but  at  the  question,  Guy  suggested  that 
they  had  best  go  into  the  house  as  soon  as  possible, 
as  his  desire  not  to  be  seen  in  Montvale  was  still 
strong.  In  a  few  moments  the  two  men  were  alone 
in  the  superintendent's  parlor.  Then  Guy  related 
his  falling  out  with  Roland  on  his  return  to  the  city, 
though  without  giving  the  cause  of  the  rupture. 

"  I  could  not  talk  to  him  about  anything,"  he  said. 
"  I  did  not  speak  a  word.  As  soon  as  I  could  pack 
my  things  I  took  them  away,  and  that  is  why  I  never 
was  able  to  give  him  your  message." 

"  The  deuce  !"  said  Hobbs.  "  And  so,  for  all  you 
know,  he  may  be  starving  to  death  at  this  present 
moment." 

"Yes,"  said  Guy,  coldly.  "For  all  I  know,  or 
care  !" 

Hobbs  stared  at  the  young  man  for  some  seconds. 

"There  is  but  one  cause  that  could  so  embitter 
two  such  friends  as  you  were,"  he  said,  at  last. 
"  There  was  jealousy  about  some  woman." 

"  No  matter  what  it  was,"  replied  Dalton.  "  I 
will  not  discuss  it.  Our  acquaintance  is  at  an  end." 

"  And  why,  then,"  asked  Hobbs,  "  have  you  come 
to  me  ?" 


"YOU  ARK  A  COOL  ONE."  265 

Poorly  prepared  for  contact  with  so  shrewd  a 
mind,  Guy  had  a  second  of  apprehension.  But  by 
good  luck  he  hit  upon  an  answer  that  looked  rea- 
sonable. 

"  I  am  still  out  of  work,"  said  he,  **  and  nearly 
penniless.  You  have  great  influence  with  Mr.  Lin- 
nette.  I  want  my  old  place  in  his  office." 

Mr.  Hobbs  laughed  aloud. 

"  You  are  a  cool  one,"  he  replied.  "  Don't  you 
know  that  I  love  that  boy  Roland,  as  much  as  if  he 
were  my  own  flesh  and  blood  ?  After  abandoning 
him  without  even  conveying  my  message  offering 
assistance,  you  come  to  ask  help  for  yourself  !  But 
I'm  not  going  to  be  as  cruel  as  you.  Give  me  his 
address,  and  I'll  give  you  " — he  paused,  noting  the 
gleam  in  Dalton's  eyes — "  I  should  say  lend  you  any 
sum  you  need." 

Guy  was  struck  by  the  position  of  the  old  man, 
and  touched  by  the  tenderness  of  his  voice. 

"  I  will  gladly  give  you  the  address,"  he  responded. 
"  You  will  find  him,  unless  he  has  moved  away,  at 
No.  —  East  Sixth  Street.  As  to  your  offer  to  lend  me 
money,  I  shall  have  to  subdue  my  pride  enough  to 
accept  a  little.  If  you  can  let  me  have  ten  dollars  I 
promise  to  return  it  at  the  very  earliest  possible 
date.  The  truth  is,  I  have  not  enough  to  get  back  to 
the  city  without  walking." 

Hobbs  wrote  the  address  carefully  in  a  little  mem- 
orandum book  that  he  carried  in  his  coat  pocket. 

"  If  it  will  ease  your  pride  any,"  said  he,  *'  I  have 
another  proposition  to  make.  I  would  like  to 
employ  you  for  a  week  or  so  on  a  very  particular 


266  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

and  private  affair.  If  you  succeed  in  what  I  wish  to 
accomplish  you  will  be  handsomely  rewarded.  If 
you  fail,  your  expenses  and  a  good  salary  for  the 
time  employed  will  be  paid." 

The  young  man  caught  eagerly  at  the  proposition. 
While  it  was  very  agreeable  to  stay  in  the  Linnette 
mansion  with  Eva,  he  knew  it  was  far  from  being  a 
sensible  way  to  pass  any  more  of  his  time.  He 
wanted  the  pleasure  of  again  earning  something,  the 
sensation  of  having  in  his  purse  a  few  dollars  that 
would  enable  him  to  hold  his  head  up  among  men. 
He  told  Mr.  Hobbs  that  he  would  willingly  under- 
take any  honorable  mission. 

"I  am  going  to  impart  a  most  profound  secret," 
said  the  elder  man,  when  this  had  been  arranged. 
"You  will  need  to  show  the  greatest  judgment  in 
carrying  out  the  investigations  I  intend  to  commit 
to  you." 

Much  impressed,  Dalton  inquired  why  he  had 
been  selected  for  this  work. 

"  For  two  reasons.  One  is  because  you  are  avail- 
able,— because  you  are  able  to  begin  at  once.  The 
other  is  because  it  will  lead  you  to  a  location  with 
which  you  have  told  me  you  are  familiar,  that  of 
East  Ryegate,  Vermont." 

Guy  started  perceptibly  when  he  heard  the  con- 
cluding statement  ;  but  he  recovered  himself,  and 
begged  his  companion  to  proceed. 

"  You  may  remember  telling  me,"  said  Hobbs, 
"  that  you  knew  of  a  family  by  the  name  of  Lincoln, 
living  in  Ryegate." 


"  YOU    ARE   A    COOL   OWE."  267 

Again  there  was  the  slight  start,  that  did  not 
escape  the  watchful  eyes  of  the  questioner. 

"  Yes,"  said  Dalton,  slowly,  "  I  remember." 

"  There  were  two  daughters  in  this  family,"  pur- 
sued Hobbs.  "  One  of  them,  the  younger,  was 
named  Beatrice.  She  married  and  moved  away  a 
great  many  years  ago.  The  elder's  name  was — " 

He  paused,  and  looked  at  Guy  inquiringly. 

"  Bertha,"  said  Guy. 

"  Exactly.  She  lived  during  the  later  years  of  her 
life  in  a  village  about  twenty  miles  from  Ryegate. 
The  name  of  it  escapes  me  at  this  moment — " 

Dalton  named  it  quietly. 

"Precisely," said  Hobbs.  "And  this  Miss  Lincoln 
— Miss  Bertha  Lincoln — did  not  live  entirely  alone, 
I  believe.  She  had  adopted  a  child,  soon  after  her 
sister's  death — and  now  comes  the  secret,  that  you 
must  swear  not  to  reveal  without  my  permission." 

Guy  inclined  his  head  in  token  of  assent. 

"  I  believe  the  child  which  Miss  Bertha  adopted 
and  brought  up  was  the  offspring  of  her  sister." 

Guy  looked  intently  at  the  speaker. 

"  Well  ?"  he  said,  interrogatively. 

Mr.  Hobbs  smiled,  as  he  was  wont  to  do  when  he 
cornered  his  adversary  at  a  game  of  chess. 

"  Were  you  pretty  well  acquainted  with  things  in 
Ryegate  ?"  he  asked. 

"Quite  well." 

"Did  you  ever  hear" — the  old  man  bent  forward 
anxiously — "  the  name  of  the  man  Miss  Beatrice 
married  ?" 

Dalton  contracted  his  brows  in  thought.     Yes,  he 


LOYE   AT   SBTWTT. 

said,  he  had  heard  the  name,  but  it  had  slipped  his 
memory. 

"  Was  it  Linnette  ?"  demanded  Hobbs,  triumph- 
antly. 

"  I  think  it  was,"  said  Guy,  with  a  nod. 

"  And  Willard  ?     Was  it  Willard  Linnette  ?" 

"I  don't  know.  But — you  don't  mean — you 
wouldn't  wish  me  to  understand — " 

Hobbs  rose  and  rubbed  his  hands  together  with 
glee. 

"  Wouldn't  I  ?  Oh,  yes,  I  would  !  Begins  to  grow 
entertaining,  doesn't  it  ?" 

Then  he  told  Guy,  with  all  the  flourishes  of  a 
romancist,  about  the  long-past  love  and  marriage  of 
the  master  of  Montvale,  much  as  detailed  by  Mr. 
Linnette  himself  to  Roland,  and  already  explained 
to  the  reader.  Hobbs  had  known  all  that  his  em- 
ployer knew,  even  in  those  remote  days,  but  upon 
the  latter's  return  with  the  sad  news  of  his  young 
wife's  death,  it  had  been  agreed  that  the  matter 
should  never  again  be  mentioned  between  them. 

Upon  learning  through  the  New  York  doctor  that 
his  child  was  born  alive,  the  instrument  manufacturer 
had  confided  all  he  learned  to  his  faithful  friend,  by 
means  of  the  mail.  After  himself  visiting  Ryegate, 
and  setting  a  detective  agency  to  work  upon  the  trail 
of  the  lost  child,  Linnette  had  again  written  to 
Hobbs,  telling  him  of  the  latest  developments.  It 
was  then  that  the  superintendent  remembered  that 
Dalton  came  from  that  town,  and  he  was  debating 
making  a  journey  to  the  metropolis  in  the  hope  of 


"YOU   ARE   A  COOL  ONE."  269 

finding  him    when   the   unexpected    meeting    took 
place. 

If  he  could  manage  to  find  this  child  by  his  own 
efforts,  directed  in  this  way,  what  a  crowning  glory 
it  would  be  for  him  ! 

"  I  want  you,"  he  said  to  Dalton,  "  to  go  to  East 
Ryegate  and  learn  what  became  of  this  adopted 
child.  The  clue  does  not  seem  an  easy  one,  from 
what  Linnette  writes  me,  but  perhaps  a  smart 
Yankee  boy,  who  knows  the  neighborhood,  may  out- 
wit the  New  York  detectives.  You  will  see  what  an 
important  matter  this  is.  If  you  are  successful,  you 
may  be  sure  not  only  of  your  old  place  in  the  count- 
ing room,  but  of  almost  anything  else  you  want." 

Guy  had  been  growing  very  sober  during  the  pro- 
gress of  these  arrangements.  He  rose  like  one  who 
has  slept  on  the  bare  ground  and  finds  his  bones 
aching. 

"  You  are  quite  certain  that  Bertha's  adopted  child 
was  Mr.  Linnette's  own  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Quite.  The  coincidence  is  too  remarkable  to 
leave  much  doubt." 

The  young  man  listlessly  took  the  money  that 
Mr.  Hobbs  handed  to  him,  not  counting  it.  As  long 
as  it  was  no  charity  he  did  not  care  what  the 
amount  was. 

"  I  will  do  my  best,"  he  said,  simply. 

He  went  back  to  the  Linnette  house  and  crept 
softly  up  the  stairs.  Writing  a  note  explaining  that 
urgent  business  called  him  away,  and  that  he  would 
communicate  again  as  soon  as  possible  by  mail,  he 
slipped  it  under  Eva's  door.  Then,  taking  his  satchel 


$70  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

Jn  his  hand,  he  went  as  he  had  come,  carrying  the 
key  to  the  entrance  with  him. 

Before  starting  on  his  way  to  Ellsworth,  however, 
he  stood  a  long  time  gazing  at  the  roof  that  had 
sheltered  him,  and  his  fine  eyes  were  dimmed  with 
the  tears  he  could  not  restrain. 


BOLAND  AHD  MAUD.  271 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

ROLAND       AND       MAUD. 

The  delight  of  Roland  Linnette  at  being  recon 
ciled  with  his  uncle  was  fully  shared  by  Miss  Arline. 
The  old  gentleman  remained  to  dinner  with  them, 
and  became  more  and  more  impressed  with  the 
sweet  and  modest  bearing  of  his  nephew's  young 
housekeeper.  He  refrained,  by  arrangement  with 
Roland,  from  referring  in  any  way  to  the  startling 
information  he  had  imparted  to  him,  while  in  Maud's 
presence.  But  after  he  had  departed  (first  assuring 
his  nephew  that  his  former  income  would  be  given 
him,  and  that  he  had  only  to  present  his  letter  of 
credit  to  the  Barings' correspondent)  the  young  man 
could  not  help  telling  Maud  something  of  what  he 
had  learned. 

"  It  is  the  greatest  secret,"  he  said,  "and  I  ought 
not  to  say  a  word,  but — " 

"Then,  don't,"  she  interposed,  mildly.  "Two 
can  keep  a  secret  much  better  than  three." 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  said  Roland.  "  I  must  at  least 
give  you  an  inkling.  My  uncle — you  won't  ever 
tell,  will  you  ?" 

Maud  shook  her  head,  with  a  smile.  She  liked 
him  very  much,  when  he  was  in  a  mood  like  this. 

"  Well,  years  ago,  you  see,  my  uncle  married.  He 
kept  it  from  almost  every  one,  except  his  wife  and  a 


273  LOVB  AT  SEVENTY. 

sister  of  hers.  And  when  he  was  away  on  a  journey, 
Mrs.  L.  presented  him  with  a  child.  No,  she  didn't 
eijther — that  was  just  the  trouble." 

Maud's  pretty  face  exhibited  a  puzzled  look  at 
this  statement. 

"  It  was  this  way,"  said  Roland,  making  another 
start.  "  She  had  a  child,  but  she  did  not  present  it  to 
her  husband.  She  died,  in  fact,  and  a  wicked  fairy 
— her  sister — stole  the  innocent  babe  and  carried  it 
off  to  her  castle  in  the  country,  sending  word  to  the 
father  that  his  wife  died  before  the  birth,  you  under- 
stand. And  through  all  these  decades  he  never  heard 
of  the  truth  till  within  a  week  or  two." 

The  strangeness  of  this  story  was  admitted  by  the 
listener,  who  asked  what  object  the  sister  had  in 
perpetrating  the  deception. 

"  The  greatest  in  the  world,"  replied  Roland. 
"  She  was  in  love  with  my  esteemed  relation  herself, 
and  wanted  something  to  console  her  for  his  loss. 
Then  she  supposed  him  a  poor  man,  who  would  be 
rather  pleased  than  otherwise  to  get  rid  of  the  care 
of  an  infant,  for  he  had  never  told  her  or  his  wife 
that  he  was  a  nabob.  When  a  woman  is  in  love  my 
dear,  she  will  do  anything." 

He  looked  archly  at  Miss  Arline  as  he  said  this, 
and  she  cast  down  her  eyes  and  reddened  in  a 
charming  way. 

"  Won't  she  ?"  he  asked.  "  When  a  woman  is  in 
love,  won't  she  do  anything  ?" 

Maud  said  she  did  not  know,  never  having  had 
any  experience. 


EOLAKD  AND  MATTD.  273 

"  You  are  a  story  teller,"  replied  Roland.  "  You 
certainly  have  been  in  love — with  Guy." 

The  mention  of  this  name  made  the  girl  put  on  a 
very  serious  look.  She  replied  that  she  had  never 
been  in  love  with  that  young  gentleman,  and  that 
Roland  knew  it  well. 

"  All  right,  then,"  said  he.  "  We  will  let  the  Dai- 
ton  episode  pass.  But  at  the  present  moment  you 
are  very  much  in  love  with  Jiff,  and  that  you  dare 
not  dispute." 

To  this  Maud  made  a  still  more  vigorous  protest, 
but  her  companion  insisted  that  he  was  right,  and 
greatly  enjoyed  her  discomfiture  when  she  could 
not,  in  response  to  his  challenge,  look  him  straight 
in  the  eyes  and  tell  him  the  contrary. 

"  The  fates  have  ordained  it,  Maud,"  he  continued, 
when  he  had  succeeded  in  making  her  laugh  in  spite 
of  herself.  "Bad  as  I  am,  wicked  as  I  have  been, 
there  is  mercy  in  store  for  me.  I  am  to  be  made  a 
better  man  by  the  power  of  your  love." 

She  would  not  admit  this,  but  she  listened  with  a 
high-beating  heart,  while  he  told  her  that  he  should 
never  be  satisfied  until  a  clergyman  had  bound  her 
to  him  for  life.  And  she  looked  still  more  pensive 
when  he  divulged  the  fact  that  his  uncle  had  probed 
the  depth  of  her  feelings  even  in  the  short  time  he 
was  at  the  house,  and  had  spoken  in  the  most  com- 
plimentary terms  of  her. 

.  "  We  are  nearer  in  worldly  wealth  than  we  used 
to  be,"  he  added,  "  if  that  could  make  any  difference 
to  him.  What  little  chance  I  had  of  inheriting  his 
property  is  disposed  of  by  the  discovery  be  has  just 


274:  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

related  to  me.  If  he  finds  his  child  I  shall  never 
tread  the  soil  of  Montvale  as  its  owner.  Confound 
him  !"  he  exclaimed,  comically.  "  He  acted  as  if  I 
ought  to  be  excessively  pleased  at  the  news  !  Why, 
it  knocks  me  out  of  a  clear  million  !" 

Then  Maud  talked  with  him  quietly  for  a  long 
time  of  the  troubles  that  came  with  wealth,  and  the 
greater  happiness  that  people  in  moderate  means 
enjoyed.  Before  they  parted  that  night  he  had 
urged  her  again  and  again,  without  result,  to  give 
him  a  definite  promise  to  be  his  wife. 

"  You  are  so  changeable,"  she  said.  "  It  seems 
but  yesterday  that  you  could  only  think  and  talk  of 
Miss  Warren." 

"I  know  it,"  he  admitted,  ruefully.  "I  can't 
understand  it  in  the  least.  It  was  nothing  but  pity 
— nothing  whatever.  I  was  drawn  into  it  before  I 
knew  what  I  was  doing." 

"  The  same  as  you  are  in  my  case  V  she  suggested. 

"Not  at  all.  I  loved  you,  dear,  the  day  I  first  saw 
you,  when  that  dunce  of  a  Hanson  sent  you  after 
me.  I- can  see  you  now,  standing  there  in  the  snow, 
with  your  pretty  cheeks  reddened  by  the  exercise  of 
walking,  and  the  cold  air,  and  the — " 

She  bade  him  "  Hush  !"  and  said  it  was  time  she 
retired. 

"  And  won't  you  promise  to  be  mine  ?"  he  pleaded. 

"Not  to-night." 

"  Well,  then,"  he  answered,  pretending  to  misua- 
derstand,  "  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  at  any  rate, 
Not  later  than  noon,  I  must  insist.  Really,  Maud,  if 
you  hold  me  off  till  dinner  time  I  shall  die." 


ROLAND   AlTD   MAUD.  275 

Her  head  was  aching,  as  she  went  to  her  room,  and 
found  her  dressmaker  friend  asleep  before  her.  The 
happiness  Roland  held  out  to  her  was  too  great. 
She  did  not  believe  it  could  ever  come. 


Willard  Linnette  consulted  daily  with  his  detec- 
tives, growing  impatient  at  the  slowness  of  their 
movements.  Happening  to  hear  the  name  of  Rye- 
gate  mentioned,  Roland  informed  his  relation  that 
his  late  friend,  Guy  Dalton,  had  once  lived  in  that 
place.  This  led  to  a  consultation  with  the  chief  of 
the  bureau  that  was  managing  the  search,  and  it  was 
decided  that  Guy  ought  to  be  found  and  an  attempt 
made  to  put  him  upon  the  case  at  once. 

But  Guy  was  no  easier  to  find  than  the  long-lost 
child.  As  the  reader  knows,  he  was,  during  part  of 
this  time,  in  the  Linnette  mansion  at  Montvale,  and 
later,  on  the  errand  suggested  by  Mr.  Hobbs,  of 
which  Mr.  Linnette  had  no  knowledge. 

41 1  have  an  idea,"  said  the  manufacturer,  at  last. 
"You  remember,  Roland,  that  Miss  Warren  wrote 
to  him  once — of  course  you  do.  Perhaps  she  has  his 
present  address.  It  is  at  least  worth  trying.  I  am 
going  home  to-morrow  on  business  and  I  will  try  to 
find  out." 

When  Eva  learned  that  Mr.  Linnette  had  returned 
she  thought  it  wisest  to  appear  at  dinner.  She  had 
a  curiosity  to  note  whether  there  was  anything  un- 
usual in  his  manner.  She  saw  at  once  that  all  traces 
of  anger  seemed  to  have  disappeared.  He  greeted 
her  with  great  kindness,  and  when  the  meal  was 


276  LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 

ended  he  inquired  if  she  would  favor  him  with  her 
presence  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  library. 

Knowing  no  reason  why  she  should  refuse,  though 
wondering  greatly  at  the  request,  the  girl  complied 
without  comment.  Mr.  Linnette  followed  her  and 
closed  the  door  behind  them. 

"  Some  weeks  ago,"  he  said,  in  an  ordinary  tone, 
after  motioning  her  to  a  chair  and  taking  another, 
"  I  spoke  to  you  on  a  matter  very  distasteful  to  me, 
and  my  manner  of  alluding  to  it  was  hardly,  I  fear, 
less  so  to  you.  I  now  wish  to  say — " 

She  thought  it  best  to  set  him  right,  before  he  had 
gone  any  farther  in  that  direction. 

"  If  you  are  referring  to  your  nephew,  sir,  I  can 
save  you  the  necessity.  I  shall  never  speak  or  write 
to  him  again." 

"  So  I  supposed,"  he  said,  in  the  same  voice.  "  I 
have  had  an  interview  with  him — in  fact,  several  of 
them.  He  tells  me  that  for  a  time  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  hearing  from  you  several  times  a  week,  and 
that  it  is  quite  a  while  since  he  received  any  reply  to 
his  communications.  He  believes  that  you  must 
have  heard  from  a  certain  source  of  an  unpleasant 
occurrence  that  took  place  in  his  apartment,  even 
before  he  wrote  you,  resigning  all  claim  to  your 
hand." 

There  were  four  unopened  letters  of  Roland's  in 
Charlotte's  possession.  She  had  been  told  never  to 
bring  another  to  her  mistress  with  his  superscriptioa 
on  the  envelope,  and  she  had  put  these  away  among 
her  own  things. 

"  I  do  not  like  to  discuss  this  matter,"  said  Eva, 


BOLAND    AND   MAUD.  277 

with  a  sigh.  "  I  felt  justified  in  all  that  I  did,  even 
when  it  was  against  your  wishes  ;  but  now  it  is  ended, 
and  I  hope  we  shall  never  have  to  allude  to  it 
again." 

Mr.  Linnette  bowed  profoundly.  He  had  feared 
an  outbreak  of  regret  and  passion,  and  was  much 
relieved  at  the  manner  in  which  she  referred  to  his 
nephew.  It  argued,  he  reasoned,  that  she  had  not 
been  as  deeply  attached  to  him  as  he  feared. 

"  I  hope,"  he  went  on  to  say,  "  you  are  con- 
vinced that  whatever  I  have  done  has  been  with  an 
honest  regard  for  your  best  welfare.  I  am  quite 
glad  to  let  this  incident  pass  without  further  com- 
ment. What  I  now  wish  to  ask  you  is  if  you  can  tell 
me  the  address  of — of  Mr.  Guy  Dalton." 

The  question  was  so  unexpected  that  the  girl's 
cheek  flushed  brightly.  She  thought  at  first  that 
this  was  merely  an  ingenious  way  of  showing  that  he 
knew  the  concealment  of  which  she  had  been  guilty. 
One  glance  at  the  calm  face  of  the  millionaire  dissi- 
pated this  impression,  but  still  she  was  uncertain 
what  answer  to  make  him.  She  felt  that  she  had  no 
right  to  reveal  Guy's  whereabouts  until  she  had 
consulted  with  the  young  man. 

"  Was  there  any  indication  of  his  residence  in  the 
letter  he  wrote  you  ?"  asked  Mr.  Linnette. 

"  I  have  not  said  that  he  wrote  me  any  letter,  she 
answered,  diplomatically. 

Mr.  Linnette  looked  troubled. 

"  I  had  hoped  you  could  tell  me  where  to  find 
him,"  he  said,  gravely.  "  It  is  on  a  matter  of  much 
importance.  I  have  hired  the  largest  detective 


278  LOVE    AT    SEVENTY. 

A 

bureau  in  New  York  to  hunt  for  him,  so  you  can 
judge  for  yourself  that  it  is  no  small  affair." 

Eva  began  to  tremble  again.  What  offence  had 
Guy  committed  ?  Was  there  no  man  whose  life  was 
what  it  should  be  ?  There  could  be  no  prejudice  on 
her  account,  as  Mr.  Linnette  could  not  know  of  her 
relations  with  him.  She  had  accused  this  man  once 
in  her  thoughts  of  slandering  his  nephew,  and  had 
found  that  his  charges  were  only  too  well  founded. 

"  Eva,"  asked  Mr.  Linnette,  after  a  pause, "are  we 
good  friends  again  ?" 

"  Why,  yes,  sir,  I  hope  so." 

"  You  believe  that  all  I  have  done  has  been 
actuated  by  a  regard  for  your  welfare  ?" 

She  assented  cordially. 

**  And — do  you — care  as  much  for  me  as — as  you 
did  before  any  of  these  things  occurred  ?" 

He  was  bending  toward  her,  and  there  was  a  depth 
of  emotion  in  his  voice  for  which  she  could  not 
account.  Again  she  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"  From  the  day  you  came  to  live  here,"  he  said, 
*'  you  have  been  very  dear  to  me.  I  love  you  as 
well — indeed,  I  think  far  more — than  most  men  love 
their  daughters.  It  would  break  my  heart  to  find 
anything  like  a  permanent  estrangement  growing  up 
between  us.  Dear  child,  I  want  to  say  much  more 
to  you  than  I  dare,  and  some  day  I  hope  to  have  the 
courage  I  need.  You  like  me — you  are  sure  you  like 
me?" 

Tears  stood  in  his  eyes.  Quite  innocent  of  what 
he  had  in  mind,  she  felt  a  profound  pity  for  the  senti- 
ments that  had  brought  such  visible  sorrow  to  this 


BOLAND   AHD   MAUD.  279 

eld  man,  who  had  done  so  much  for  her.  Rising, 
she  put  her  arms  around  his  neck  as  she  had  done 
a  hundred  times  in  younger  years,  and  laid  her  fair 
cheek  to  his. 

For  a  few  moments  he  did  not  move.  Then  he 
arose  and  walked  with  her  to  the  hallway. 

"  God  bless  you  !"  he  said,  in  broken  tones,  as  she 
said  good-night  to  him,  and  went  slowly  up>  :he 
staircase. 


2CC  LOVE  AT  SEVEHTT* 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

OFF     TO     GRETNA     GREEN. 

Thf?  second  day  after  Guy  Dalton's  sudden  disap- 
pearance from  Montvalc,  Eva  received  a  letter  from 
him,  through  the  agency  of  Mrs.  Merrill.  In  it  he 
told  her  nothing  of  the  business  upon  which  he  had 
embarked,  except  that  it  was  a  secret  which  he  had 
promised  not  to  divulge.  But  there  was  something 
in  this  letter  of  more  importance  to  its  recipient  than 
any  other  subject  could  be.  Page  after  page  was 
covered  with  protestations  of  the  most  ardent 
affection. 

"  I  could  not  speak  these  words  when  in  your 
presence,"  said  the  letter,  "  but  now  that  I  am  able  to 
call  pen  and  paper  to  my  assistance,  I  can  no  longer 
repress  them.  Within  the  past  week  I  have  learned 
that  life  without  you  would  be  unendurable.  Even 
my  unfortunate  condition,  penniless  and  without  a 
permanent  situation  of  any  kind,  cannot  keep  me 
from  telling  you  the  truth.  It  seems  presumptuous 
to  reveal  the  state  of  my  feelings,  when  I  have  no 
home  to  offer,  but  I  may  not  always  be  as  poor  as  I 
am  now.  With  the  hope  of  winning  you  to  inspire 
me,  I  shall  yet  surmount  the  obstacles  in  my  path. 
Dear,  dear  Eva,  if  so  I  may  call  you,  say  I  have  not 
offended  you,  for  if  I  have,  I  will  never  come  into 
your  presence  or  send  you  another  line." 


OFF  TO  GBETWA  GREEN.  281 

Clasping  this  letter  to  her  heart,  Eva  felt  for  the 
first  time  the  wonderful  sensation  of  true  reciprocal 
love.  The  sentiment  she  had  conceived  for  Roland 
Linnette  was  quite  different  from  that  which  had 
been  growing  up  so  rapidly  in  her  bosom  for  Guy 
Dalton.  Roland  was  the  first  young  man  with  whom 
she  had  ever  come  in  contact.  Her  secluded  life  left 
her  ready  to  find  perfection  in  any  well-appearing 
person  of  the  opposite  sex,  if  sufficiently  good- 
natured  and  attractive.  But  for  Guy  she  had  a  much 
more  powerful  emotion.  During  the  hours  she  had 
spent  in  his  company  she  had  longed  earnestly  for 
some  spoken  word  to  indicate  that  her  feeling  to- 
ward him  was  returned.  The  least  expression,  tell- 
ing of  his  love,  would  have  sufficed  to  let  loose  the 
full  tide  of  her  own  affection.  And  now,  when  his 
su-dden  and  unannounced  departure  had  filled  her 
with  alarm  and  foreboding,  came  this  sweet  proof  of 
all  she  could  ask. 

Her  happiness  was  so  great  that  for  a  few  days 
she  did  not  even  communicate  the  news  to  Charlotte. 

Three  letters  came  in  quick  succession  from  Guy, 
the  third  one  saying  he  should  return  on  the  follow- 
ing evening.  The  maid  was  told  to  be  on  the  watch 
for  him,  and  before  he  arrived  Eva  had  told  her 
all.  Charlotte,  happy  at  anything  that  pleased  her 
young  mistress,  rejoiced  also.  As  soon  as  Dalton 
appeared  on  the  premises  he  was  taken  into  Eva's 
presence  and  left  alone  with  her. 

There  was  a  second  of  hesitation,  and  then  the  fair 
girl  allowed  her  lover  to  take  her  in  his  arms. 

*  You    do  really    forgive  me,  then  ?"   murmured 


282  LOTS   AT    SEVENTY. 

Guy,  who  wore  a  haggard  look,  as  of  one  who  has 
passed  sleepless  nights. 

For  answer  she  gave  him  her  lips  to  kiss  ;  he 
needed  no  other. 

"  Have  you  been  doing  anything  wrong  ?"  asked 
Eva,  as  soon  as  she  could  speak. 

"Wrong?"  he  repeated,  with  a  dazed  look. 

"  Yes.  Mr.  Linnette  has  been  here  inquiring  for 
you.  He  says  detectives  are  looking  for  you  in  all 
directions." 

Then  she  told  him  the  entire  conversation  she  had 
had  with  Mr.  Linnette  in  the  library,  as  far  as  she 
could  recall  it. 

14 1  give  you  my  word,"  he  answered,  breathing 
more  easily,  "  that  I  have  done  nothing  of  which  you 
would  not  approve.  Don't  tell  me,  darling,  that 
you  lost  faith  in  me  !" 

The  girl,  embracing  him  again,  declared  that 
such  a  supposition  was  the  farthest  possible  thing 
from  the  truth.  But  even  though  he  were  a  criminal, 
she  protested,  she  could  do  no  less  than  love  him. 

"  I  have  thought  so  much  of  the  dangers  we  run," 
she  added,  "  that  everything  alarms  me.  Oh,  I  wish 
we  could  be  married  at  once  !  Then,  whatever  hap- 
pened, they  could  not  tear  us  apart  !" 

The  young  man  gazed  at  her  with  tenderness. 
What  an  innocent  flower  she  was  to  open  her  full 
heart  to  him. 

"  I  wish  it  as  heartily  as  you,  my  love,"  he  said. 
"  If  I  had  any  money  I  could  call  my  own,  I  would 
ask  you  to  run  away  with  me  this  very  night.  When 


OFF  TO  GRETNA  GREEH.  283 

we  had  found  a  minister  and  were  made  one,  we 
could  laugh  at  all  their  threats  and  insinuations." 

The  idea  of  an  elopement  completely  fascinated 
the  girl.  To  go  away  with  him,  to  stand  before  a 
clergyman  and  hear  the  words  that  should  make 
him  her  husband — that  was  charming  indeed  ! 
When  she  heard  Dalton's  suggestion,  she  burst  into 
enthusiastic  praise  of  it. 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  heavenly  !"  she  cried.  M  And 
as  for  money,  I  have  enough  to  last  us  several 
weeks.  I  will  go  with  you  immediately,  if  you 
think  best." 

Guy  doubted  the  expediency  of  taking  this  child 
from  her  home,  with  the  grave  questions  of  future 
support  that  he  knew  would  soon  come  upon  him. 
But  how  could  he  resist  the  pleading  eyes  and  the 
flushed  cheeks  with  which  she  offered  to  throw  her- 
self into  his  arms  ?  He  found,  on  examining  the 
money  she  hastened  to  bring  him,  that  there  was 
nearly  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  of  it.  It  is  easier 
to  look  on  the  bright  side  than  on  the  dark  one 
when  a  luscious  young  maiden  offers  to  lead  the  way. 
Within  an  hour  the  plans  for  flight  began  to  be 
matured. 

.  "It  is  hardly  twelve  o'clock,"  he  said,  looking  at 
the  timepiece  on  the  mantel.  "  I  can  go  to  Ells- 
worth, rouse  the  stable  keeper,  and  get  here  with  a 
carriage  by  half-past  three.  You  can  have  the  things 
that  are  absolutely  necessary  to  take  packed  in 
valises  by  that  time,  and  Charlotte  can  bring  them 
out  to  the  door  in  the  wall  where  I  entered.  Luck- 
ily," he  added,  going  to  a  window, 4<  there  is  no  moon 


884:  LOTE   AT  SEVENTY. 

and  the  night  is  dark  as  pitch.  You  cannot  take  a 
great  many  things,  and  you  must  select  carefully 
those  you  will  need  most.  You  are  certain  you  can 
rely  on  Charlotte  ?" 

Eva  laughed  merrily. 

"She  is  as  sure  as  my  own  hand,"  she  answered- 
"  Go  at  once,  and  get  your  carriage.  You  will  have 
to  walk  so  far  !  I  am  very  sorry  for  you,  but — I'm 
worth  it,  am  I  not  ?" 

Before  the  hour  announced  Dalton  returned  with 
his  vehicle,  but  he  did  not  permit  it  to  come  nearer 
than  a  hundred  yards  of  the  place  he  had  agreed 
upon.  He  found  Eva  all  ready — as,  indeed,  she  had 
been  for  a  long  time — and  Charlotte  wearing  her 
outer  wraps  and  an  air  of  mystery. 

"  Is  she  going  with  us  ?"  he  whispered  in  a  rather 
blank  tone. 

"  Now,  my  dear  Guy,"  laughed  Eva,  "  isn't  that  a 
peculiar  question  ?  Did  you  imagine  I  was  going  to 
travel  alone  with  a  man  before  I  was  married  to 
him  ?  And  what  do  you  think  would  become  of 
poor  Charlotte  if  I  left  her  here  to  bear  the  blame  of 
my  escape  ?" 

He  saw  the  force  of  both  reasons,  but  he  felt  com- 
pelled, lest  she  should  think  him  worse  than  he  was, 
to  pretend  he  had  alluded  to  the  extra  expense  that 
a  third  person  would  entail. 

"  That's  true,"  mused  Eva,  thoughtfully.  "  Per- 
haps, if  we  continue  to  be  very  poor,  I  shall  have  to 
find  a  new  place  for  her  by-and-by.  But  now,  really, 
I  couldn't  go  a  step  without  her  ;  you  must  see  thai. 


JT  TO   GRETOA   GREKIT.  285 

Let  me  show  you  the  letters  I  have  written  to  leave 

behind  me." 

He  had  no  more  objections  to  offer,  and  he  read 
the  letters  with  interest.  The  first  one  was  as 
follows  : 

"  MY  DEAREST  MAMMA  :— You  could  not  be  my  mother 
and  not  know  what  love  is.  A  few  hours,  at  the  latest,  after 
you  read  this,  I  shall  be  Mrs.  Guy  Dalton !  Does  not  that 
sound  strange  for  little  Eva  ? 

"  And  who  is  Guy  ?  you  may  inquire.  He  is  the  handsom- 
est, sweetest,  dearest  man  in  the  world,  and  I  love  him. 
That's  all. 

"  I  should  have  confided  in  you  ;  yes,  that  is  true.  But 
you  might  have  thrown  a  hundred  obstacles  in  our  way,  and 
that  would  not  have  been  agreeable  to  us. 

"  Charlotte  is  going,  too.  As  soon  as  we  are  settled 
enough  to  have  a  permanent  address  I  shall  let  you  know 
of  it. 

"  In  the  meantime,  dear  mother,  believe  me, 

"  Your  dutiful  daughter, 

"  ETA." 

And  the  second  one  read  like  this  : 

"  MR.  WlLLARD  LlNNETTK. 

"  DEAR  FRIEND  : — Do  not  think  me  ungrateful  for  all 
your  kindness.  Indeed,  1  am  not.  I  have  left  your  house 
with  him  who  is  to  be  my  husband,  because  love  is  the 
Strongest  feeling  in  the  breast  of  woman. 

"You  told  me  last  night  that  you  had  detectives  search- 
ing for  Mr.  Dalton.  They  need  search  no  longer.  As  soon 
as  we  are  married  and  in  a  home,  he  will  tell  you  where  to 
find  him.  He  knows  of  no  crime  that  should  cause  him  to 
evade  you. 


LOVE    AT    SEVENTY. 

"  Think  of  me  as  gently  as  you  can.    Forgive  me  as  soon 
as  you  can.    And,  if  it  is  possible,  come  to  us  and  be  the 
same  dear  '  Uncle  Willard  '  you  have  been  to  me  so  long. 
"  Your  '  little  treasure/ 

"  EVA  WARREN." 

Willard  Linnette  rose  at  his  usual  early  hour  that 
morning,  ate  his  breakfast  and  went  mechanically  to 
His  office.  When  Tom  Hobbs  came  in  they  talked  of 
the  ill  success  of  the  detectives. 

"There's  one  good  thing  ought  to  come  out  of  this 
matter,  at  any  rate,"  said  Hobbs.  "  Now  that  you 
know  you've  a  grown-up  child  you  won't  think  any 
more  of  making  a  fool  of  yourself." 

An  expression  of  pain  flitted  across  Mr.  Linnette's 
features. 

"  That  is  your  delicate  way  of  referring  to  my 
regard  for  Miss  Warren,  I  presume,"  he  said. 

"  Exactly." 

The  manufacturer  suppressed  an  inclination  to 
reply  in  an  impatient  manner,  for  he  knew  the  good 
intentions  of  this  old  friend  so  well. 

"Ah,  Tom!"  he  cried,  "  the  coming  on  of  years 
does  not  deaden  the  heart  in  a  healthy  man,  nor  does 
the  springing  up  of  love  in  his  bosom  indicate  decay 
of  the  mental  faculties.  She  has  promised  me  to 
have  nothing  more  to  do  with  Roland.  I  see  no  rea- 
son to  change  my  mind.  No  child  will  regret  to 
learn  that  a  father's  last  days  are  to  be  brightened 
by  the  companionship  of  a  beautiful  and  loving 
woman." 


OFF   TO   GRBTNA   GREEN.  287 

The  door  opened  at  this  moment  and  one  of  the 
clerks  entered. 

"  Mrs.  Warren  has  come  down,  sir,  and  says  she 
must  see  you  immediately." 

"Show  her  in,"  said  Mr.  Linnette.  "Don't  go, 
Hobbs,"  he  added.  "  There  need  be  no  secrets  be- 
tween us  three." 

But  when  Mrs.  Warren  came  into  the  room  it  was 
seen  that  she  was  laboring  under  great  excitement. 
The  traces  of  tears  were  on  her  cheeks,  and  she 
repressed  another  outburst  with  the  greatest  dif- 
ficulty. Both  gentlemen  rose  to  proffer  her  their 
chairs,  but  she  would  accept  neither. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Linnette  !"  was  all  she  could  say,  and 
this  she  repeated  not  less  than  a  dozen  times  in 
rapid  succession,  clasping  her  hands  together  in 
distress. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  asked  her  employer,  taking  alarm. 
"  Is  Eva  ill  ?" 

She  wrung  her  hands  in  pain. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Linnette  !  How  can  I  tell  you  ?  Read 
these  letters  !" 

Each  sentence  came  with  a  gasp,  and  then  Mrs. 
Warren,  handing  him  the  missives,  sank  into  one 
of  the  chairs  offered  her  and  began  to  sob  violently. 

The  manufacturer  took  the  letters  and  began  to 
read  first  the  one  addressed  to  himself.  He  had 
only  reached  the  words  "  with  him  who  is  to  be  my 
husband,"  when  a  mist  came  over  his  eyes.  He 
thought  at  the  moment  that  Roland  had  lied  to  him 
after  all — that  his  pretence  of  love  for  Maud  Arline 
was  a  mere  blind  to  conceal  his  real  intention,  and 


LOVE   AT  SEVENTY. 

that  it  was  with  him  that  Eva  had  gone  away.  He 
staggered  against  the  desk  at  which  he  had  been 
sitting,  and  handed  the  notes  to  Hobbs. 

"Read  them,  Tom  ;  I  can't,"  he  ejaculated,  in  a 
smothered  voice.  "  Read  them  distinctly  that  I  may 
know  the  worst." 

Hobbs  did  as  he  was  bidden.  Linnette  listened  as 
one  listens  to  a  voice  at  the  distant  end  of  a  telephone. 
He  did  not  understand  the  situation  perfectly  until 
the  second  letter  was  read.  He  believed  at  first  that 
Dalton  had  only  been  a  co-conspirator  with  his 
nephew.  But  when  the  plain  declaration  was  made, 
"  I  shall  be  Mrs.  Guy  Dalton,"  he  uttered  a  stifled 
cry,  threw  up  his  arms  and  fell  fainting  to  th« 
office  floor. 


"YOU   HAVE   MABRIED   HER  P*  289 

CHAPTER   XXX. 

"  YOU    HAVE    MARRIED    HER  !" 

Maud  Arline  was  too  much  in  love  with  Roland 
Linnette  to  hold  out  long  in  the  face  of  his  ardent 
wooing.  Their  situation  was  somewhat  to  blame  for 
the  denouement  that  speedily  took  place.  As  he 
told  her,  with  a  happy  laugh,  they  were  already 
housekeeping  and  knew  each  other  as  well  as  an 
unwedded  couple  was  ever  likely  to.  He  had  de- 
termined to  ask  his  uncle  for  a  place  in  some  depart- 
ment of  his  business,  where  he  could  honestly  earn 
the  living  he  received.  The  difference  in  worldly 
wealth  between  him  and  his  hoped-for  bride  had 
been  shown  to  be  a  very  thin  and  flimsy  one.  It 
would  not  be  a  "  marriage  in  high  life,"  in  any  sense, 
now  that  he  was  no  longer  the  prospective  heir  of 
Montvale. 

"  We  are  just  two  ordinary  human  beings,  Maud," 
he  said,  "  in  whom  the  world  at  large  has  not  the 
slightest  interest.  Don't  put  me  off  any  longer. 
Let  me  take  you  to  the  nearest  minister  and  have  it 
over." 

And  this  is  what  was  done,  a  few  days  later.  The 
ceremony  took  place  in  the  clerical  parlor,  with  as 
little  fuss  as  possible.* 

*  The  author  of  this  novel  is  conscious  at  this  point  of 
departing  from  the  rule  which  belong  ago  adopted,  never  to 


290  LOTS   AT  8ETENTT. 

The  first  visitor  the  newly  wedded  couple  received 
was  old  Tom  Hobbs.  The  superintendent,  who  had 
only  once  or  twice  in  his  life  made  a  journey  of  this 
magnitude,  had  come  to  New  York  with  a  most  noisy 
bee  in  his  bonnet.  He  brought  the  astonishing  news 
of  Eva's  flight  with  Guy,  and  of  the  effect  it  had  had 
upon  the  senior  Linnette. 

"  He's  a  very  sick  man,"  said  Hobbs,  in  conclu- 
sion. "  The  doctors  don't  know  yet  whether  they 
can  save  him.  Everything  is  confusion  at  the  house, 
or  they  would  have  sent  you  word  sooner." 

Roland  looked  at  Maud,  who  sat  silently  listening. 

"  I  shall  go  at  once,  of  course,"  said  he. 

Hobbs  nodded  his  approval  of  this  plan. 

"  You  ought  to  understand,  though,"  he  went  on 
to  say,  "  just  what  the  situation  is.  Your  uncle  is 
violently  in  love  with  that  girl.  He  confided  to  me 
weeks  ago  his  intention  to  marry  her.  Knowing  how 
much  you  thought  of  her,  I — " 

The  younger  man  stopped  the  speaker  by  a 
gesture. 

"  You  surprised  me  so  by  your  unexpected  ap- 
pearance," said  he,  "  that  I  forgot  a  very  important 
matter.  Mr.  Hobbs,  let  me  present  to  you  my  wife" 

write  anything  in  the  remotest  degree  immoral.  He  must 
agree  with  the  conscientious  reader  that  Roland  Linnette, 
after  his  life  of  dissipation,  deserved  no  such  happy  fate  as 
to  wed  a  pure,  virtuous  maiden  like  Mise  Arline.  It  looks 
like  rewarding  vice,  instead  of  punishing  it,  which  should  be 
the  object  of  all  truly  moral  literature.  But  in  this  case,  to 
do  otherwise  than  as  I  have  would  dearly  spoil  my  story, 
and  I  must  choose  the  lesser  of  two  evils.  A.  R. 


"  YOU   HAVE    M AKRIED    HEK  I"  291 

The  superintendent  rose  with  old-fashioned  form- 
ality, and  took  the  hand  that  the  blushing  Maud  ex- 
tended.  He  was  so  confused,  however,  that  he  could 
not  utter  a  syllable. 

"  You  don't  understand  it,"  smiled  Roland,  "  and 
there  is  no  need  that  you  should.  My  uncle  hat 
been  here  and  fully  approves  my  choice.  I  lik*d 
Miss  Warren  very  well,  but  Maud  is  the  only  woman 
I  ever  really  loved.  Now,  you  can  proceed  to  finish 
your  story,  which  is  not  so  much  of  a  surprise  to  me 
as  you  might  imagine.  It  was  probably  the  knowl- 
edge of  this  feeling  on  my  uncle's  part  that  drove 
Eva  to  such  a  desperate  step." 

There  was  a  pause  of  several  minutes,  during 
which  Mr.  Hobbs  was  allowed  to  recover  himself. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Linnette,  Jr.,  went  into  the  next  room 
and  talked  over  Roland's  projected  trip  to  Montvale, 
which  it  did  not  seem  best  for  her  to  take  with  him. 
It  was  their  first  parting,  and  Maud  was  doing  her 
best  to  appear  brave. 

"  Well,  that's  about  the  whole  of  your  story,  isn't 
it  ?"  said  Roland,  cheerily,  when  he  returned  to  his 
guest's  presence. 

"  Heavens  and  earth,  no  !"  exclaimed  Hobbs. 
"  You  say  you  were  not  astonished  at  what  I've 
already  told  you,  but  I'll  guarantee  you  will  be 
before  I  get  through  with  the  rest  of  it." 

Roland  and  Maud  surveyed  the  speaker  with  new 
interest. 

"You  have  heard,"  said  Hobbs,  "that  Mi.  Guj 
Dalton  formerly  lived  at  Ryegate,  Vermont  ?" 

"  Yes/'  assented  Roland. 


292  LOVE  AT  BKVEHTT. 

"  And  that  your  uncle  had  detectives  looking  for 
him,  in  the  hope  that  he  would  be  of  valuable  service 
in  the  recovery  of  his  lost  child  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"And  you  knew,  I  suppose,  that  the  name  of  the 
child's  adopted  mother  was  Lincoln?" 

Roland  bowed  again. 

"Well,  what  would  you  think,"  asked  Hobbs, 
impressively,  "  if  you  heard  that  this  same  Mr. 
Dalton's  real  name  is  Lincoln,  too?" 

The  wedded  pair  looked  at  each  other  in  wonder- 
ment. 

"  How  do  you  know  this  ?"  asked  Roland. 

"  I'll  tell  you.  I  came  to  the  conclusion  some 
days  ago  that  if  anything  was  to  be  accomplished  in 
finding  that  child,  someone  besides  the  city  detec- 
tives would  have  to  take  a  hand.  Without  saying  a 
word  to  your  uncle  I  sent  Dalton  to  Vermont  to 
hunt  up  a  son  that  had  been  raised  by  Miss  Bertha 
Lincoln,  now  deceased,  and  whose  present  where- 
abouts is  a  matter  of  pressing  interest.  I — " 

Roland  burst  into  a  loud  laugh. 

"And  you  think  he  went  off  to  hunt  for  himself  !" 
he  cried. 

"  It  looks  like  it,"  said  Hobbs,  gravely.  "  I  hap- 
pened to  ask  him  once  before  if  he  knew  the  Lin- 
coins  of  Ryegate,  and  he  admitted  that  he  did.  He 
knew  the  date  of  Miss  Bertha's  death,  too.  When  I 
found  him  the  last  time  and  asked  him  to  go  on  this 
errand,  he  had  the  strangest  look  in  his  eyes  you 
ever  saw.  And  you  know  how  proud  he  always  was 
ubout  money.  Well,  he  took  over  a  hundred  dollars 


"TOTT  HAVE  MARRIED  HER!"  S9S 

that  I  handed  him,  without  even  counting  it.  He 
must  have  known  that  he  would  soon  be  able  to  pay 
it  back." 

Roland  shook  his  head  as  if  to  say  it  was  mysterU 
ous,  truly. 

"  Where  was  it  you  found  him  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Right  in  the  middle  of  the  Ellsworth  road  at 
Montvale,  after  ten  o'clock  at  night,"  answered 
Hobbs.  "Look  at  the  smartness  of  the  fellow.  He 
was  undoubtedly  hanging  around  there  and  com- 
municating with  Miss  Warren.  And,  when  he 
learned  through  my  story  to  him  that  he  was  the 
lost  heir,  he  arranged  this  runaway  match  for  fear  he 
would  encounter  his  father's  opposition,  if  he  waited 
until  his  identity  was  established.  Oh,  he's  deep 
enough,  I  tell  you  !" 

It  looked  like  a  sure  case,  but  another  question 
came  to  Roland's  lips. 

"You  haven't  told  me,"  he  said,  "how  you  dis- 
covered his  true  name." 

"  It  was  this  way,"  replied  Hobbs.  "  As  I  said 
before,  I  got  tired  waiting  for  these  slow  detectives. 
I  went  to  Ellsworth  and  found  a  conductor  who 
remembered  taking  Miss  Eva  and  her  maid,  whom 
he  knew,  to  the  city  on  his  train.  The  young  fellow 
shrewdly  kept  out  of  the  way,  and  the  conductor  sup- 
posed the  girls  were  travelling  alone  for  some  good 
reason.  Inquiring  among  the  depot  hackmen,  I  dis- 
covered the  driver  who  took  the  entire  party  to  the 
Bartholdi  Hotel.  There  I  learned  the  name  of  the 
minister  who  was  called  to  perform  the  marriage, 


294  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

and  when  I  went  to  him  he  said  he  had  not  married 
any  person  by  the  name  of  Dalton." 

The  listeners  looked  with  admiration  upon  the 
amateur  Vidoq. 

"Goodness!"  exclaimed  Poland.  "You  should 
apply  for  the  position  of  Chief  Inspector  at  once." 

"  The  minister  told  me,  pursued  the  now  unruffled 
Hobbs, "  that  he  had  married  a  '  Mr.  Clarence  Lin- 
coln '  to  a  Miss  Eva  Warren,  at  the  Bartholdi,  day  be- 
fore yesterday.  The  description  of  the  party  tallied 
with  that  of  our  acquaintances." 

As  this  seemed  the  end  of  the  superintendent's 
tale,  Mrs.  Linnette  inquired  why  Mr.  Hobbs  had  not 
looked  on  the  hotel  register. 

"I  did, "was  the  reply.  "And  I  found  that  the 
young  fellow  had  written  there,  'Joseph  Gibbs  and 
party.'  He  did  not  mean  to  be  tracked  so  easily." 

Roland  smiled  softly  to  himself. 

"Just  tell  us  where  this  Mr.  Lincoln  is  now,"  said 
he,  "  and  your  remarkable  history  will  do  for  the 
foundation  of  a  romance." 

"  I  wish  I  could,"  said  Hobbs.  "  The  morning 
after  their  marriage  they  left  the  Bartholdi,  and  no 
one  remembers  anything  indicating  the  direction 
they  took.  The  hotel  folks  supposed  it  an  ordinary 
wedding  trip,  and  paid  no  attention  to  the  carriage 
In  which  they  left." 

The  upshot  of  the  conversation  that  now  followed 
was  a  decision  that  the  most  vigorous  search  must 
be  instituted  for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clarence  Lincoln — as 
it  seemed  most  absurd  to  call  them.  Mr.  Lincoln 
must  be  apprised  as  soon  as  possible  of  the  preca- 


MTOU   HATE    MARRIED   HER!"  295 

rious   condition  of  his  father's  health.     If  all  else 
failed  a  newspaper  personal  must  be  used. 

Mr.  Hobbs  confessing  to  being  nearly  exhausted 
from  lack  of  sleep,  a  bedroom  was  assigned  him  in 
which  to  recuperate,  and  Roland  went  out  upon  the 
street  to  begin  his  search  alone.  By  one  of  those 
strange  happenings  for  which  no  one  can  account, 
he  had  not  gone  a  dozen  blocks  when  he  met  the 
object  of  his  hunt,  on  the  Broadway  sidewalk. 

Flushing  rosy  red,  Dalton,  or  Lincoln,  as  he  may 
now  be  called,  made  a  stiff  bow  and  attempted  to 
pass  without  further  recognition.  But  Roland 
planted  himself  directly  in  front  of  him  and  spoke 
with  determination. 

"  You  are  the  very  man  I  want,"  he  said,  with 
earnestness.  "  Come,  don't  be  the  first  to  reject  ad- 
vances. Whatever  harm  I  may  have  done  to  you 
was  unpremeditated,  and  should  be  forgotten  now 
that  you  have  married  another  woman.  I  have  a 
most  important  message  to  give  you.  My  uncle  has 
been  taken  very  ill,  and  your  presence  is  conse- 
quently wanted  at  Montvale." 

Lincoln's  face  bore  no  sign  of  relenting. 
»    "Excuse  me,"  he  said.     "I  have  no  desire  or  in- 
tention of  returning  to  that  village.     If  you  know  of 
«jy  marriage  you  understand  why." 

MI  do  not  understand  at  all,"  retorted  the  other. 
"After  taking  the  liberty  of  inheriting  the  estate 
that  was  to  have  been  mine,  you  can  afford  to  treat 
me  with  politeness.  If  I  committed  any  fault  toward 
Maud  Arline,  you  can  hardly  reproach  me  with  it, 
now  that  she  is  my  wife." 


296  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

Lincoln's  manner  changed  with  lightning  speed. 

"  You  have  married  her  !"  he  cried. 

"  More  than  a  week  ago." 

The  extended  hand  was  grasped  and  shaken 
heartily,  and  the  two  young  men  were  again  friends. 

"  Well,"  asked  Roland,  as  they  walked  along, 
"  how  do  you  like  the  prospects  of  becoming  a 
millionaire  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean,"  answered 
Clarence. 

"  Do  you  tell  me,"  asked  Roland,  stupidly,  "  that 
you  have  learned  nothing — about  your  parentage  ? 
You  are  unaware  that  your  father  is  living  and  very 
rich  ?" 

"Some  one  has  deceived  you,"  was  the  reply. 
"  My  father  died  twenty  years  ago." 

Roland  shook  his  head  with  decision. 

"You  are  the  one  who  is  mistaken,"  he  said. 
"Your  father  is  certainly  living — unless  he  has  died 
within  a  few  hours.  In  short,  you  are  the  son  of 
Willard  Linnette,  the  owner  of  Montvale.  Why,  you 
must  know  that  what  I  say  is  true  !" 

Then  Lincoln  smiled  for  the  first  time. 

"I  know  it  is  not,"  said  he,  "and  for  the  best  of 
reasons.  I  was  sent  by  Mr.  Hobbs  to  ferret  out  the 
whereabouts  of  that  child,  and  I  have  done  so. 
Before  many  days  I  will  prove  to  you  what  I  say." 

Overcome  with  astonishment  Roland  invited 
Clarence  home  with  him,  and  the  invitation  was 
accepted. 


EVERYTHING  EXPLAINED.          297 

CHAPTER    XXXL 

EVERYTHING     EXPLAINED. 

Some  days  later  nearly  all  the  characters  in  our 
story  were  gathered  at  the  mansion  of  the  optical 
instrument  maker  of  Montvale.  Seated  in  the  large 
parlors  were  Roland  Linnette  with  his  wife,  Clarence 
Lincoln  with  his,  Tom  Hobbs,  Mrs.  Warren  and  a 
Mr.  Lewis,  the  latter  representing  the  detective 
agency  that  had  undertaken  to  restore  the  missing 
child  of  the  millionaire.  Between  all  of  these 
people  there  appeared  to  be  the  greatest  cordiality, 
in  marked  contrast  with  the  divisions  that  had  sep- 
arated some  of  them  so  long.  Indeed,  there  was  on 
each  face  a  good-natured  smile,  as  if  the  present  had 
a  happiness  that  completely  atoned  for  the  troubles 
of  the  past. 

It  was  evident  that  Mrs.  Warren  had  entirely  for- 
given the  escapade  of  her  daughter,  for  she  sat  with 
that  young  lady's  hands  in  hers,  while  the  proud 
young  husband,  not  faraway,  listened  with  brighten- 
ing eyes  to  the  conversation  between  them.  And 
well  might  he  be  pleased,  for  the  burden  of  Eva's 
remarks,  delivered  in  a  tone  just  loud  enough  for 
him  to  hear,  was  that  no  other  girl  had  ever  pos- 
sessed such  a  wonderful  treasure  in  the  form  of  a  mar- 
ital mate.  The  mother's  critical  eye  had  no  fault  to 


298  LOVE   AT   SEVENTY. 

find  with  her  daughter's  choice,  and  she  was  a  witness 
to  the  old  adage  that  "  all's  well  that  ends  well." 

Mrs.  Roland  Linnette,  if  possible,  seemed  happier 
even  than  her  newly-made  friend,  Eva.  Her  hus- 
band was  talking  in  a  low  key  with  the  detective, 
Mr.  Lewis,  and  her  sweet  face  was  completely 
wreathed  in  smiles  at  the  remarks  he  was  making. 
Occasionally  Roland  interposed  some  word  that 
sent  the  rosy  blood  to  her  fair  cheek,  making  her 
still  more  beautiful.  She  had  to  touch  his  arm  sur- 
reptitiously very  often  to  keep  him  within  proper 
bounds,  lest  the  attention  of  the  detective  should  be 
called  to  the  stolen  pressures  given  to  her  hand  that 
lay  nearest  the  contented  fellow.  The  experiences 
of  the  bride  had  not  caused  her  to  lose,  but  rather 
had  accentuated,  the  modesty  so  charming  in  her  as 
a  maiden. 

Old  Tom  Hobbs,  of  all  that  group,  sat  alone. 
But  his  face  was  not  a  sad  one,  either.  He  was 
pretending  to  look  over  a  book,  that  lay  on  a  table 
at  his  elbow,  and  glancing  about  three  times  a  min- 
ute at  the  tall  clock  in  the  corner,  as  if  impatient  at 
some  delay. 

Finally  a  door  opened,  and  a  tall  figure  was  seen 
at  the  threshold.  Every  one  present  rose,  with  the 
greatest  politeness,  to  welcome  Willard  Linnette. 
Tom  Hobbs,  crossing  the  room,  took  the  arm  of  his 
employer,  who  was  evidently  still  weak  from  his 
sudden  illness.  In  response  to  a  whispered  direc- 
tion, Mr.  Linnette  was  piloted  to  a  seat  by  his 
nephew  and  Maud.  The  old  gentleman  walked 
slowly,  but  otherwise  he  looked  remarkably  well> 


EVERYTHING    EXPLAINED.  209 

considering  everything.  Eva  whispered  to  her  hus- 
band, "  Isn't  he  handsome  !"  as  he  passed  her,  and 
the  tired  face  of  her  foster-father  lit  up  as  the  faint 
sound  reached  his  ear.  When  Mr.  Linnette  and  the 
others  were  seated,  Mr.  Lewis  rose  and  asked  if  he 
should  proceed,  to  which  an  answer  was  given  in  the 
affirmative. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  began  the  detective. 

"  Not  so  formal,"  protested  the  weak  voice  of  Mr. 
Linnette,  Sr. 

"Talk  it  right  out,"  put  in  Tom  Hobbs.  "You 
can't  tell  many  of  us  much  that  we  don't  know." 

This  remark  raised  a  laugh,  just  the  thing  that  was 
needed.  Mr.  Lewis  was  as  glad  as  the  others  to 
have  the  icy  air  of  the  room  melted. 

"  You  all  know  this,  at  least,"  he  proceeded.  "  I  am 
the  head  of  the  detective  bureau  of  Lewis  &  Co.,  New 
York.  Some  weeks  since,  Mr.  Willard  Linnette  came 
to  me  and  said  he  had  found  evidence  that  a  child  of 
his,  in  relation  to  whose  birth  he  had  been  deceived, 
had  been  brought  up  by  a  certain  Bertha  Lincoln, 
its  aunt,  residing  near  the  town  of  Ryegate,  Vt.  The 
woman  had  died  some  time  previous,  and  the  child 
had  disappeared.  He  wanted  us  to  find  it  and  restore 
it  to  him." 

"Which  you  never  would  have  done  if  it  had  not 
been  for  me,"  interposed  Hobbs,  at  which  sally  every- 
body laughed  again. 

The  detective  could  not  resist  the  general  contag- 
ion, though  he  felt  injured  in  his  professional  feel- 
ings by  the  observation. 

"  I  would  not  say  too  much  if  I  were  you,"  he 


300  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

responded.  "You  made  about  the  worst  mistake  in 
the  entire  business,  as  I  shall  show." 

Then  the  laugh  turned  upon  Hobbs,  who  was 
restrained  with  difficulty  from  defending  himself, 
then  and  there.  Only  the  protesting  hand  of  Mr. 
Linnette,  with  its  warning  finger  raised,  prevented 
him. 

"  I  undertook  the  job  myself,"  continued  Mr. 
Lewis,  when  quiet  was  restored.  "  I  went  to  Rye- 
gate  with  Mr.  Linnette,  and  found  that  all  the  points 
he  had  been  able  to  give  me  were  correctly  made. 
I  found  also  that  Miss  Bertha  had  left  her  small 
fortune  to  her  adopted  child,  committing  its  interests 
to  a  guardian  who  lived  some  distance  away,  in 
another  State.  And  I  discovered  that  this  guardian 
had  proved  quite  unworthy  of  his  trust,  if  not 
actually  dishonest,  as  I  believe  I  shall  yet  demon- 
strate." 

Tom  Hobbs  had  fidgeted  uneasily  in  his  chair  for 
several  seconds,  and  at  this  stage  in  the  proceedings 
he  could  contain  himself  no  longer. 

"I  must  protest,"  he  ejaculated,  "against  this 
continual  speaking  of  Miss  Bertha's  adopted  child 
as  '//.'  When  we  all  understand  the  matter,  it  is 
simply  exasperating.  That  confounded  pronoun  has 
bothered  me  enough,  and  I  don't  want  to  hear  it 
again." 

Another  laugh,  this  time  a  very  hearty  one,  passed 
around  the  circle. 

"You  will  have  to  humor  him,"  spoke  up  the 
voice  of  Mr.  Linnette.  "  Tom  is  a  privileged  char- 
acter in  Montvale,  Mr.  Lewis." 


EVERYTHING   EXPLAINED.  301 

'•  What  shall  I  call  the  child  ?"  asked  the  detective, 
mischievously.  "  Shall  I  say  '  he  f  " 

"  No,  that  would  be  worse  yet  !"  blurted  the 
superintendent. 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  on  Maud,  whose  face 
was  suffused  with  blushes.  Her  husband's  uncle 
had  motioned  her  to  his  side,  and  his  shaking  arm 
was  clasped  about  her  form.  Strangely  enough, 
Roland  did  not  seem  to  object  in  the  least  to  the 
proceeding. 

"Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Lewis.  "We  will  use  the 
right  pronoun  this  time  and  call  the  child  '  she.' 
The  girl,  then,  that  Miss  Bertha  Lincoln  brought  up, 
and  which  I  have  absolutely  proved  to  be  the  daugh- 
ter of  Willard  Linnette,  was  left  in  the  care  of  a 
man  named  Redding,  with  the  sum  of  seven  thousand 
dollars.  He  was  believed  to  be  a  most  honorable 
man,  who  would  educate  her  well  and  give  her 
whatever  balance  was  left  when  she  reached 
the  age  of  twenty-one.  On  her  deathbed  Miss 
Lincoln's  conscience  overcame  her,  and  she  asked 
her  religious  adviser  to  make  an  effort  to  find  the 
child's — I  should  say  the  girl's — father,  which  we 
all  know  he  failed  to  do.  If  he  could  not  make  this 
discovery,  according  to  Miss  Lincoln's  desire,  the 
girl  was  not  to  be  told  of  her  origin,  as  it  would 
only  add  to  her  distress  of  mind.  In  that  case  she 
was  to  continue  to  bear  through  life  the  name  by 
which  she  had  been  known." 

But  here  Roland  interposed. 

"  Not  '  through  life,'  Mr.  Lewis  f"  he  protested. 

"Until  her  marriage,  then,"  corrected  the  detec- 


302  LOVE    AT    SEYKNTY. 

tive.  "  Miss  Lincoln  had  pretended  that  the  gir! 
was  taken  from  an  asylum  and  that  her  right  name 
was  Arline.  The  man  Redding  kept  this  girl  till  she 
was  of  age,  and  then  coolly  informed  her  that  the 
amount  left  with  him  for  her  care  was  exhausted  and 
that  she  would  have  to  shift  for  herself.  I  have 
learned — and  I  hope  the  lady  in  question  will  not 
prevent  my  repeating  it — that  his  course  was  influ- 
enced by  her  refusal  of  his  offer  of  marriage,  he 
being  at  that  time  a  widower  and  much  fascinated 
by  his  ward's  beauty.  It  is  also  said — " 

Maud's  distress  was  so  evident  at  this  point  that 
the  detective  desisted  of  his  own  accord  ;  while 
Roland,  with  a  dark  look,  declared  that  he  would 
go  that  very  day  to  find  this  Redding,  and  punch 
his  head. 

"  At  any  rate,"  resumed  Mr.  Lewis,  when  the 
pretty  object  of  his  remarks  had  succeeded  in  par- 
tially quieting  her  beligerent  spouse,  "  this  guardian 
turned  Miss  Arline  out  without  a  penny.  She 
obtained  work  at  the  hotel  here  in  Montvale,  and 
from  that  time  her  story  need  not  be  repeated.  She 
is  now  acknowledged  as  the  daughter  of  the  father 
she  lost  so  long,  and,  as  the  story  books  say,  they 
ought  to  live  happily  ever  after." 

Congratulations  to  Mrs.  Roland  followed,  lasting 
several  minutes.  Eva  and  Mrs.  Warren  kissed  her 
several  times,  and  so  did  her  husband,  and  Mr.  Lin- 
nette,  while  Tom  Hobbs  and  Mr.  Lewis  looked  as  if 
they  had  as  lief  follow  suit. 

"And  now  I  wish  Mr.  Lincoln  would  explain  pre- 


EVERYTHING    EXPLAINED.  303 

cisely  the  hand  he  had  in  this  matter,"  said  the  elder 
Linnette,  with  his  feeble  voice. 

Clarence  blushed  like  a  school-girl. 

"I  had  very  little  part  in  it,  I  assure  you,"  he 
replied.  "  I  knew  Miss  Arline  quite  well,  and  she  had 
told  me  considerable  of  her  early  history.  It  inter- 
ested me  when  I  learned  where  she  came  from,  for  I 
recognized  her  adopted  mother's  name  as  that  of  a 
distant  relation  of  my  own,  whom  I  had  never  hap- 
pened to  meet.  After  this  search  was  begun,  Mr. 
Hobbs,  who  had  heard  me  speak  of  Ryegate,  engaged 
me  to  go  there  to  pick  up  evidence.  In  the  course 
of  what  he  told  me  I  learned  enough  to  make  me  feel 
sure  that  Miss  Arline  would  prove  to  be  the  lost 
child.  I  traced  her  to  the  town  where  she  had  lived 
with  her  guardian  and  satisfied  myself  beyond  doubt. 
Then  I  returned  to  Montvale — " 

He  paused,  reddening  more  than  ever  ;  but  Mr. 
Linnette  smilingly  encouraged  him  to  proceed. 

"  And  then  I  went  to  New  York — on  my — on  my 
wedding  trip,"  stammered  Lincoln.  "  I  was  so  full 
of  my  own  happiness  that  I  could  think  of  nothing 
else  for  a  few  days.  I  meant  to  write  the  full  text 
of  my  discoveries  to  Mr.  Hobbs,  but  before  I  reached 
that  point  I  met  Roland  in  the  street.  He  told  me 
of  his  marriage  and  I  saw  that  everything  would  be 
clear." 

A  glance  of  gratification  was  exchanged  between 
Mrs.  Linnette  and  her  father. 

"One  thing  more,"  said  Roland.  "How  did  it 
happen  that  you  took  the  name  of  '  Guy  Dalton  ?'  " 

"  I  will  tell  you.     When  I  left  my  home  in  Rye- 


304  LOVE   AT    SEVENTY. 

gate  I  believed  I  should  succeed  in  making  a 
fortune  for  myself  and  return  crowned  with  success. 
My  experience  was  far  otherwise.  Bad  luck  seemed 
to  follow  me  everywhere,  and  at  the  time  I  came 
into  the  counting  room  here  I  was  so  reduced  as  to  be 
ashamed  to  own  my  true  name.  When  you  asked  it 
I  gave  the  first  one  that  came  to  my  lips." 

Mr.  Linnette  called  all  present  to  witness  that  the 
speaker  should  never  have  a  like  tale  to  tell  after 
that  day.  He  would  give  him  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant positions  at  his  New  York  office.  At  this 
Eva  rose  impulsively  and  went  over  to  press  a  warm 
kiss  on  her  foster-father's  cheek. 

"The  only  thing  wanting  now,"  said  Mr.  Lewis, 
with  a  smile,  "  is  to  have  Mr.  Hobbs  tell  us  how 
near  he  came  to  convincing  Mr.  Linnette  that  our 
friend  Lincoln  was  his  long-lost  daughter  !" 

The  merriment  that  followed  was  terrific.  Out  of 
it  all  Tom  Hobbs  came,  resolute  and  defiant. 

"  If  some  of  you  had  known  enough  to  describe  a 
female  child  as  lshe%  instead  of  'if,'  there  would  have 
been  no  trouble,"  he  retorted.  "  Oh,  you  needn't 
join  in  the  laugh  at  my  expense  !"  he  cried,  to  his 
employer.  "It's  the  first  time  I've  been  wrong  in 
over  thirty  years,  as  you'll  have  to  admit." 

Dinner  was  announced  at  this  juncture,  and  all 
proceeded  to  the  dining-room.  Willard  Linnette 
walked  with  a  much  stronger  step  than  when  he  en- 
tered the  parlor,  for  the  contagion  of  good  cheer 
had  had  its  effect  on  him  as  well  as  the  others.  He 
was  placed  at  the  head  of  the  board,  with  Maud  on 


EVERYTHING   EXPLAINED.  305 

his  right  and  Eva  on  his  left,  their  husbands  next  to 
them,  of  course.    - 

When  the  champagne  was  brought,  he  rose  and  in 
a  steady  voice  asked  all  present  to  drink  the  health, 
of  "  My  darling  daughter,  the  heiress  of  Montvale." 


306  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

A     PEEP     AT     THE     STARS 

Although  our  story  can  now  be  said  to  be  fairly 
finished,  the  reader  may,  if  he  desires,  witness  a 
scene  or  two  that  took  place  in  Montvale  six  months 
after  the  events  narrated  in  the  last  chapter. 

The  Linnettes  and  their  most  intimate  friends  and 
relations  were  gathered  in  the  mansion,  for  a  re- 
union. It  was  evening;  and  while  Willard  Linnette 
and  old  Tom  Hobbs  were  playing  their  game  of 
chess  in  the  library,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clarence  Lincoln 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Roland  Linnette  were  engaged  in 
a  merry  talk  over  old  times. 

"  I  never  shall  forget,"  said  Roland,  "  how  pictur- 
esque Eva's  husband  looked  that  day  he  came  into 
the  counting  room,  If  I  had  been  an  artist  1  would 
have  given  him  a  hundred  dollars  to  sit  for  his  por- 
trait. And  Rufus — what  a  fuss  he  did  make  because 
the  door  had  let  in  a  little  cold  air  !  I  expected  his 
stay  at  the  works  would  be  cut  short  when  the  new 
order  of  things  went  into  effect." 

"  Oh,  no,"  responded  Lincoln^  who  had  reddened 
a  little  under  his  friend's  compliment.  "  Rufus  is 
too  valuable  a  man  to  turn  off.  He  came  to  me  and 
offered  his  resignation,  and  I  told  him  to  tear  it  up. 
It  won't  do  to  remember  old  grudges  when  the  time 
for  them  has  passed." 


A.   PEEP   AT   THE    STABS.  307 

The  ladies  applauded  this  statement,  though  Eva 
declared  that  she  could  not  see  how  anyone  could 
have  had  the  heart  to  speak  crossly  to  a  poor  fellow 
looking  for  work  on  a  winter's  day  ;  especially  such 
a  nice  fellow  as  Clarence. 

"  There  were  some  terribly  narrow  escapes  besides 
that  one,"  smiled  Roland.  "  It  really  looked  for 
some  time  as  if  I  were  destined  to  occupy  the 
eligible  position  of  being  your  husband.  There 
must  be  a  kind  fate  that  watches  over  imprudent 
girls,  or  you  never  would  have  escaped.  And  we 
would  have  made  a  very  poor  match,  wouldn't  we, 
Eva  ?" 

Mrs.  Lincoln  shook  her  head,  as  if  she  had  not 
the  least  doubt  of  it. 

"  I  was  shut  up  here,  you  remember,"  she  said, 
"  with  nothing  to  get  my  ideas  from  but  a  lot  of 
ancient  novels.  So  I  naturally  fell  in  love  with  the 
first  man  I  saw.  And  then,  he  was  such  a  persistent 
one,  and  so  used  to  affairs  of  the  heart,  a  more 
experienced  girl  might  have  been  beguiled." 

All  laughed  at  the  manner  of  the  speaker,  which 
was  grimly  sarcastic,  but  Roland  replied  that  if  there 
was  anything  fickle  in  this  world  it  was  a  woman. 

"  Why,  Clarence,"  he  said,  "  I  had  letters  by  the 
dozen  from  your  wife,  vowing  eternal  fidelity  to  me  ! 
What  can  one  expect  of  a  girl  like  that?" 

"  You  need  not  say  too  much,  or  I  will  expose 
some  of  your  frailties,"  retorted  Lincoln.  "  I  have 
not  forgotten  when  you  told  me  Maud  was  in  New 
York,  and  advised  me  to  call  on  her,  saying  I  could 
have  'all  your  right,  title  and  interest.'  " 


308  LOVB   AT  8EVENTT. 

Maud  looked  her  husband  quizzically  in  the  eyes. 

"  Did  you  say  that  ?"  she  asked,  sweetly. 

"I  am  afraid  I  did,"  he  replied,  with  mock  sorrow. 
"  But  if  he  was  dunce  enough  not  to  accept  the 
offer,  he  needn't  bring  it  up  at  this  late  day." 

This  satisfied  everybody,  and  the  conversation 
turned  upon  the  question  of  Mrs.  Lincoln's  health. 

"  I  have  been  well  enough  ever  since  I  got  out  of 
that  everlasting  routine  of  my  early  life,"  she  said. 
"I  believe  half  the  illness  in  the  world  is  caused  by 
stagnation  of  the  mind.  It  begins  often  in  some 
slight  affection  and  the  patient  is  confined  so  closely 
that  it  grows  chronic.  You  don't  think  me  much  of 
an  invalid  now,  do  you  ?"  she  asked  her  husband. 

His  answer  was  eminently  satisfactory  on  this 
point.  Had  it  not  been,  Eva's  rich  color  and  the 
bright  gleam  in  her  eyes  would  have  proved  her  far 
from  the  state  of  an  invalid. 

"/ought  to  be  the  happiest  one  of  you  all,"  put 
in  Maud,  when  there  was  a  pause.  "  Not  only  have 
I  found  a  husband,  but  a  father.  And  you  cannot 
imagine  how  dear  he  has  grown  to  me  !  I  never 
dreamed  that  anything  could  be  so  tender.  His 
only  desire  seems  to  be  to  ascertain  my  wishes  and 
comply  with  them  in  every  respect.  How  quickly 
he  has  recovered,  too  !  The  doctors  never  come  to 
see  him  now,  and  his  step  is  as  light  as  a  young 
man's.  He  tells  me  that  I  ought  not  to  'sacrifice 
myself  for  him,  as  he  calls  living  here  in  this  beau- 
tiful house,  but  nothing  would  induce  me  to  leave 
him.  Since  Roland  went  into  the  firm  it  is  the  best 
place  for  us  both/' 


A   PKEP    AT   THE    STABS.  309 

Her  husband  admitted  this,  but  said  he  could  not 
understand  why  he  had  found  Montvale  so  dull 
when  he  first  returned  from  Europe.  It  was  now, 
he  actually  believed,  the  most  delightful  place  in 
Christendom.  Three  or  four  times  a  month  he  and 
Maud  would  take  runs  down  to  the  city,  to  enjoy 
the  theatre  or  opera,  and  stay  a  night  or  two  ;  but 
for  the  rest  of  the  time  there  was  something  won- 
derfully attractive  in  that  little  village  in  the  hills. 

"  Do  you  hear  anything  lately  from  Charlotte  ?" 
asked  Maud  of  Eva. 

"  Yes,  and  she  is  perfectly  contented.  It  is  odd 
to  think  that  all  the  time  I  was  confiding  to  her  my 
own  heart  troubles  she  was  having  an  '  affair '  of  her 
own.  I  was  thunderstruck  when  she  told  me  she 
was  engaged,  and  that  the  day  was  set  for  her  wed- 
ding. He  is  a  nice  fellow,  I  judge,  from  his  apoear- 
ance  and  all  she  says  of  him.  They  were  over- 
whelmed with  the  check  you  sent  them,  and  are 
going  to  put  the  amount  into  a  cottage.  I  have 
promised  to  go  and  see  them  when  they  get  settled." 

The  party  of  talkers  then  broke  up,  each  couple 
going  to  their  own  apartments,  the  young  brides 
kissing  each  other  affectionately  as  they  parted. 

In  the  library,  Mr.  Linnette,  Sr.,  played  his  game 
of  chess  with  Tom  Hobbs.  Between  the  moves  they 
talked  of  various  things,  as  was  their  habit 

"  I'm  going  to  give  Lincoln  an  interest  in  the 
business  next  month,"  said  Mr.  Linnette,  "  He's 
showing  great  capacity,  and  he  might  as  well  be 
under  cover." 


310  LOVE    AT   SEVENTY. 

"Can't  get  over  the  old  feeling  about  his  wife, 
can  you  ?"  smiled  Hobbs. 

The  manufacturer  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  Not  over  the  old  feeling,  no,"  he  responded. 
"  She  will  always  seem  like  another  daughter  to  me. 
But,  as  true  as  I  sit  here,  I'm  glad  she  has  a  husband 
fitter  for  her — nearer  her  years — than  I  would  have 
been." 

Hobbs  growled  that  it  was  a  good  thing  for  a  man 
to  have  common  sense,  even  if  it  did  come  late  in  life. 

"The  biggest  joke  of  the  century,  though,"  he 
added,  "  is  the  way  Roland  outwitted  you.  When  it 
looked  as  if  he  hadn't  a  single  chance  to  inherit  a 
cent  of  yours,  he  stepped  into  the  whole  pile  by  acci- 
dent. I  always  was  fond  of  the  scamp,  and  I'm 
glad  he's  turning  out  so  well." 

Mr.  Linnette  nodded,  reminiscently. 

"  I  have  heard  all  about  his  kindness  to  Clarence," 
said  he,  "  and  it  shows  he  was  never  as  bad  as  I 
imagined.  It  looked,  at  one  time,  as  if  the  saving  of 
that  boy's  life  had  deprived  him  of  his  inheritance, 
but  he  never  said  a  word,  even  after  their  quarrel. 
Do  you  know,  Tom,  what  it  was  that  completely 
revolutionized  my  feelings  toward  Roland  ?" 

Hobbs  indicated  a  negative. 

"  It  was  the  horrible  heartlessness  of  my  brother. 
I  have  not  been  to  see  him  since  the  day  he  refused 
his  son  the  paltry  amount  he  asked  to  save  him  from 
starvation.  If  it  were  not  for  Maud's  protest  I 
would  have  cut  him  off  without  another  sou.  He 
had  no  excuse  but  that  of  miserliness.  There  was 
no  trouble  between  him  and  Roland,  as  there  was  in 


A   PEEP   AT   THE    STABS.  811 

my  case.  The  young  fellow  had  said  pretty  hard 
things  to  me,  I  can  tell  you,  but  when  I  heard  what 
Payson  did  I  forgot  them  all." 

The  game  was  finished.  Hobbs  rose  and  put  on 
his  hat. 

"Well,"  he  said,  as  he  turned  to  go,  "  those  young 
folks  seem  pretty  happy,  don't  they?" 

"  Yes,"  was  the  serene  reply.  "  We  are  all  happy 
over  the  outcome  of  things,  I  am  sure." 

The  night  was  clear.  Above  his  head  the  astron- 
omer could  see  a  thousand  stars  whose  names  he 
knew  and  whose  diameters  he  had  measured.  One 
was  all  alone  in  its  part  of  the  heavens,  as  if  the 
others,  who  clustered  in  groups,  shunned  its  com- 
pany. But  the  lone  star  gave  its  full  share  to  the 
splendor  of  the  night ! 

Up  the  stairs  to  his  chamber  walked  the  old  man 
with  a  slow  step.  Passing  the  rooms  where  slum- 
bered the  wedded  couples,  rich  in  their  youth  and 
marital  felicity,  he  found  his  vacant  pillow  and 
stretched  himself  to  a  sleep  that  was  untroubled. 
And  the  moon's  rays  touched  his  features  with  a  soft 
and  mellow  light,  typical  of  the  infinite  repose 
which  comes  to  one  who  has  met  his  Enemy  and 
vanquished  him  utterly ! 


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THE  MAKING  OF  A  SUCCESSFUL  WIFE 

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THE  MAKING  OF  A  SUCCESSFUL  HUSBAND 

to    CASPER  S.  YOST.    Si.oo. 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


